


Indigo And Amethyst 2

by TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: Action, Amay Is Always Up To Mischief, Angry Thranduil, Angst, Arguments, Caring Thranduil, Daddy Thranduil Is So Sweet, Emotions, Erotic Thranduil, Even Strong Females Need A Strong Partner Sometimes, F/M, Nightclub Life, Strong Female Characters, Thranduil Love, Thranduil Lust, Thranduil Sex, young children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: Thranduil and Amay are back, accompanied by their children. Still running Indigo's, life is never dull for the couple, and continues with ups and downs that would make the average person dizzy. Amay's as strong and determined as ever, but still struggles with issues from her past and her self-esteem. Thranduil remains a strong pillar of support, Legolas and Vicky are progressing as a couple, and the youngsters bring both sweetness and anarchy to their already chaotic lives.Bard finds himself drawn under the spell of a newcomer, faces from the past reappear, and a turn in events changes everybody's lives forever.Love, tenderness, action, drama, angst, and lots of sex follow the next step for the growing Oropherion family.





	1. Welcome Back

** CHAPTER ONE **

****

Amay tutted in disgust, lifting her feet and propping them over the end of the couch, crossing her ankles. “I _really_ think that this goes well above and beyond the bloody call of duty,” she grunted. “What if I say no?!”

At the end of the line, Thranduil chuckled. “I know you will not refuse me, my darling,” his deep voice replied. “Besides, all I am asking you to do is collect him from the airport, and take him to whichever hotel he will be residing in for the duration of his stay. I am not asking you to bear his children, or to perform some explicit sex act on him.”

She snorted. “Just as fucking well,” she muttered, tipping her head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Who is this dude anyway?” she demanded.

“Just a business associate,” he told her. “But a very important one. One I would rather was in capable hands, as opposed to some cab driver who thinks his driving would equal that in one of Legolas’s ridiculous console games.”

“What’s he doing over here?” she asked. “And when are you coming home? I miss you, baby.” Her voice softened.

“I know, sweetheart, and I miss you too,” he said. “I’ll be looking at booking a flight for the beginning of next week. It isn’t much longer.”

Tears burned her eyes. “You’ve been gone for nine days and nights already,” she said.

He sighed wearily. “I know. I have been keeping count also.” He fell silent. “I really miss you.”

She took a deep breath, swallowing to try and keep her tears from overflowing. “Damned work commitments,” she murmered.

“Are you crying, baby?” he asked.

“No,” she said, sharply.

He blinked and shook his head, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reached out and took the coffee Bard handed to him. “I know it’s hard, my love, but there is a lot riding on this takeover,” he said.

“I understand,” she assured him. “I just wish the kids were a little older, and we could all have gone with you.”

He smiled. “It’s a long flight for the girls,” he said. “I think we would have serious problems keeping them still for that length of time. And Fin is still a little young to make the trip.”

Her mouth curved into a smile at the mention of their son. “He’s getting more like you every day,” she said.

At just over five months old, the little boy had Thranduil’s light blond hair and his ice blue eyes, resembling Amay in no way whatsoever.

“I miss all of you,” he told her. “And I’ll be home before you know it. I promise. In the meantime, just _please_ remember to pick my associate up tomorrow. It is important to me.”

“You know I’ll do it,” she said. “What time is his flight due in, and how will I find him?”

“I think he lands around half past four in the afternoon, and he will find you,” he replied. “I’ve shown him your picture; he knows what you look like.”

“Just hurry home,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he pleaded. “Please don’t cry.”

“I have to go,” she said abruptly.

“I love you, baby,” he said softly. “I love you and our adorable children, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, and hit the disconnect button on the receiver. She leaned her head back over the end of the couch, allowing her tears to flow freely. She wasn’t coping with being apart from her husband, and she knew it. This was the first time they’d been parted since her ex had shot him in Indigo’s, and she found herself unable to eat or sleep properly without him.

She swatted her tears away and hauled herself up off the couch as Fin started to bawl through in the bedroom.

Back in London, Thranduil sat with his head in his hands.

*****

Throwing herself down into a hellishly uncomfortable seat, Amay glared at the hordes of travellers milling around. People with kids. Old people. Young people. Teenagers. Couples.

She shook her head as she pulled her phone from her jeans pocket, the message tone catching her attention. Flipping to the message screen, she smiled as Thranduil’s name appeared.

_Are you at the airport?_

_What would you do if I said no?_ she replied.

 _I’d be disappointed, Amethyst,_ his text answered.

She huffed. _Lucky for you and this dude I’m here then, isn’t it?_

A smiley face blowing kisses floated across her screen, the kisses turning to little love hearts. Her smile widened.

 _This stinks,_ she typed. _I’d much rather be picking you up, not some stuffed bloody suit._

 _Patience, my Flower,_ he replied. _Of which you have none._

 _Bite me,_ she responded.

_Of course, when I get home. I love you xxx_

_I love you too xxx_

Growling in annoyance, she pocketed her phone again, crossing one knee over the other as her gaze drifted around. The crowds split various ways as people headed off to different boarding gates or to arrivals. A sea of luggage moved steadily around, cases being carted by tired travellers and excited holiday-makers. Crazy styles of clothing passed her, and she shook her head at the get-ups people on vacation decided to wear in moments of madness.

She wiggled her raised foot in time to a beat in her head, folding her arms and growing more bored by the minute. Absent-mindedly keeping an ear on the conversation between the couple sat behind her, she tried to decipher which language they were speaking.

Something caught her eye.

A crowd of travellers were leaving the corridor that led to Arrivals, and one in particular stood out.

As in six-feet-five stood out.

As in long blond hair stood out.

As in a confident, almost arrogant walk stood out.

Her heart stopped beating, as she uncrossed her legs, leaning forwards in the seat.

No…

Ice blue eyes met hers over the vast terminal, and he smiled.

She screamed and flew to her feet, running full-pelt towards him. Shocked passengers hurriedly moved aside as she shot between them, her sneakers squeaking on the highly polished floor. Her heart thumped madly as she ran, and she panted to breathe.

Thranduil started to laugh as he came to a stop and dropped his hold-all to the floor, opening his arms. She jumped up into them, wrapping her arms and legs around him in a vice grip. Her feet locked at his back and her arms crossed over his shoulders, and she started to laugh and cry at the same time.

He twirled around in circles with her, holding her tightly and laughing at her excitement. Fighting to breathe, she kissed his hair, his cheeks, his nose, his mouth, and any other part of him she could reach, in between laughing and crying.

“You absolute _shit!_ ” she gasped, still smothering him with kisses.

He pulled back to look at her, a wide grin on his face. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” he told her.

“Shut up,” she said, gripping fistfuls of his hair and dragging him back to kiss him. The chaotic environment around them faded to nothing as their mouths met, their kiss hungry and passionate. Her fingers twisted tighter in his hair, refusing to let him go, and his warm hands burned through the back of her t-shirt.

Eventually separating for air, he supported her weight with one arm and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I missed you,” he said softly.

She swallowed. “I missed you too,” she whispered, and blinked away the tears she felt gathering.

“Now folks, that is absolutely beautiful,” a voice said, and Thranduil turned with her to see an elderly man leaning on his walking cane. “Just wait until you’re married with a bunch of kids!”

“Blissfully married already, with three gorgeous children,” he replied with a grin, stooping to swipe up his holdall.

The old man smiled. “Then that makes it even more beautiful,” he said. “Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right – keep doing it.”

Amay reluctantly released her hold on her husband as he carefully slid her down his body to her feet. She gazed up at him, awed at the vision before her. Blinking hard, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Are you ok, my love?” he asked, tipping her chin up as she looked away.

She nodded. “Yes, I am now,” she answered. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He returned her smile, taking her hand and accompanying her across the airport. “I have something to do before we leave,” he said, crossing over to a row of immaculately polished desks. Leaning an elbow on the fourth one along, he spoke. “Oropherion,” he said, and the clerk tapped into a computer.

“Of course, Sir,” she replied, handing him an electronic card. “Just take the elevator over there next to the restaurant, and you’re on the seventh floor.”

“What are you up to?” Amay asked, puzzled.

He smiled enigmatically, saying nothing as he walked her towards the bank of elevators that had been pointed out. Pressing the button, he purposefully avoided her eyes as they waited.

The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss and he ushered her inside. The doors hadn’t quite closed before he released his hold on his bag, dropping it to the floor as he crashed her against the interior wall, his mouth hungrily devouring hers.

She responded instantly, her hands tangling in his hair as she returned his kiss. Her body went into meltdown, and her hormones blazed to life as his solid body crushed hers. He grabbed one of her legs and lifted it, pushing his hips closer to her.

A deep moan echoed off the elevator cabin as her head fell back, his mouth sucking hard on her neck.

“I want to fuck you,” he panted. “I _need_ to fuck you… _now…_ ”

Aware of the sudden gush of fluid that drenched her underwear at his erotic words, she gyrated her hips against the thrust of his. Warm, determined hands tugged at her t-shirt, a rumble vibrating through his chest as he found warm skin.

The elevator doors opened as they reached the designated floor, and they broke apart, gasping. Thranduil stared at her for a second or two, then grabbed his hold-all and led her out into the hallway. Walking purposefully, he took her to one of the doors and swiped the card, pushing it open as the reader beeped.

“You booked a hotel room?” she gasped in delight. “Oh my God, you’re mad!”

He threw the bag across the room, slamming the door closed. “Yes. I cannot and will not wait until tonight,” he said, lifting her t-shirt up and over her head. “In a house full of hyperactive, excited children, a hormone-crazy youth who when he is not all over his girlfriend, is trying to take over the racing world in some ridiculous game. A house where we might not have peace and quiet until this time next week. No. I am going to have you, Amethyst, and I am going to have you now.”

Her breasts seemed to swell as he spoke, her chest heaving as she breathed. His eyes lowered, his pupils dilating as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples through her bra. Her lips parted, sensations of intense pleasure firing through her body.

He reached behind her and swiftly undid the offending garment, tossing it aside as though it was toxic. “Much better,” he murmered, lowering his head and swirling his tongue around her left nipple.

She squeaked and gripped the back of his head, her knees trembling. One of his arms slid around her waist and supported her as he sucked hard.

“I need you so much,” he whispered, moving to her other breast. “I have been hard for _days._ I need to feel you naked, I need to feel you drench me with your come…I need to hear you scream for me…”

Her fingers struggled to undo the buttons on his black shirt, giving up half way down his chest and shoving the cloth over his shoulders.

“Jesus Christ,” she panted, the ache between her legs intensifying .

He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Do you desire me?” His softly spoken question wrapped itself around her senses.

“Yes,” she whispered, walking backwards and tugging him with her by his waistband.

He stooped slightly and swept her up into his arms, crossing the plush carpet to the bed, and tossed her down onto it. She grinned as he dragged her jeans down, taking her underwear with them. His shirt followed, and she laughed.

“You’re wearing a vest?” she giggled.

He shrugged as he kicked off his trousers. “It was cold in London,” he replied, kneeling between her legs.

Her face changed as he lifted the white garment up, and he stopped, his arms crossed over the top of his head.

The momentum of his trousers being taken off had dragged his white underwear down, so the elastic caught on his hips. A large bulge throbbed between his legs. A perfectly sculpted torso and chest presented itself to her, his muscles shadowed in the light that streamed in through the window. His hair cascaded down over his right shoulder, and shifting her gaze to the mirror behind him, she could see the rest tumbling down his strong back.

Her mouth watered.

The cheeks of his curved ass were visible in the mirror, and she turned her gaze back to the God who knelt before her, his thighs spread, his ice blue eyes gazing intently into hers.

Her pupils were massive with unshielded lust.

“Keep going,” she whispered, lifting one hand and lightly trailing her fingertips down his torso.

He inhaled sharply through his nose, tugging the vest completely off and heaving it over his shoulder. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his tight shorts, he pulled them down, and her eyes widened.

He smirked, chucking them somewhere. He didn’t care where. “You’ve seen it before,” he murmered.

“I don’t want to see it,” she replied, sitting up and pushing him back onto his heels. “I want to taste it.”

He grunted in surprise as she shot forwards and grasped him, thrusting him deep into her mouth. Sensations of ecstasy hurtled through him as she devoured him, hungry to taste him, desperate to have him. He threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her as she licked and sucked him with a purpose.

A purpose to make him explode.

“Slow down, baby,” he ground out, clenching his teeth. “Oh my God, slow down.”

She ignored him, working her hand up and down his length.

“Amethyst, I am going to come if you keep going,” he panted.

She lifted off him momentarily, grinning. “Good…it has been too long,” she said, flicking her tongue over the throbbing head. He jerked, grunting in response. Tilting his head back, he breathed hard through his mouth as she took him deep again, his eyes closing as his fists clenched on the bed cover. Unable to stop himself, his hips rose in an attempt to go even deeper into the hot, wet mouth that was giving him so much pleasure.

Sparks of white-hot heat arched down to his groin, the muscles in his lower back tensing as he approached his peak, and she sensed he was close by the jerkiness of his hips.

She didn’t show any mercy, her hand tightening and moving faster.

“Amethyst,” he pleaded. “Amethyst…oh shit…Amethyst..!” His body bucked as he climaxed, a wave of hot fluid spurting down her throat. His arms trembled with the effort of supporting his weight, and his chest heaved as he breathed hard.

She slid off him with a _pop_ of her lips, grinning. “You needed that,” she whispered, kissing her way up his stomach and over his chest. Letting her weight fall back, she tugged him with her, grinding her mouth against his.

Passion soared instantly as he accepted her hungry tongue, which searched his mouth greedily. Her thighs closed around his hips and hers tilted upwards. He could feel her wetness as she ground herself onto his thigh; hot and wet.

He dragged his mouth from hers, ignoring her protests. Sliding down the length of her, he forced her legs apart and dipped his head, sweeping his tongue up over her core in a forceful lick. Her back arched and she spasmed up off the bed. He licked her again. She writhed again. He licked her once more.

Deciding that tasting her was a pleasure that was long overdue, he concentrated on her clitoris, sliding his tongue around her folds before focusing on the hard, throbbing nerve centre that screamed out for his touch. Garbled moans met his ears as he rapidly swirled his tongue around it, sweeping over it and circling it again.

“Thranduil!” she panted, clutching handfuls of his hair. “Thranduil, oh _fuck…_ Thranduil don’t stop baby, don’t stop…”

Sweat covered her body in a light sheen as he feasted on her, holding her thighs wide to give him comfortable room to explore. The sound of unsteady breathing filled the room, accompanied by whimpers, moans and swear words.

She bucked up from the bed, pushing herself even closer to the hungry mouth that fed off her, her feet digging into the soft cover as she wriggled and moved. Her hands tugged his hair hard, but it didn’t deter him.

Feeling nothing but her pleasure as he struggled to hold her down, he swiftly brought her to a screaming orgasm, fighting to keep licking her as she exploded and thrashed almost violently under him. Strong arms crossed over her stomach and pinned her to the bed, but the strength of her convulsions jerked her free of his hold.

He lifted his body up over hers, covering her mouth with his as he pushed his painfully-hard erection into her clenching depths. Her legs lifted and crossed over his back in response, her hands clutching his biceps as he hovered over her. Hot tongues met and danced an erotic dance, fuelled by passion and hunger as he began to move within her. Deep thrusts sent her further and further into euphoria, her body responding to his. Strong hands gripped hers as they rolled over and over, each drive of his hips seeming to push almost into her soul. Long blond hair tangled with long black hair, limbs entwined around limbs and mouths crushed together in a frenzied hunger.

“I’m going to come again,” Thranduil gasped, tearing his lips from hers and panting like a long-distance runner. “Amethyst…I’m coming…”

She tightened her inner muscles around him, squeezing him as hard as she could, and he roared in exhilaration as he spurted deep within her. His powerful body shuddered and quaked in her arms before he dropped his weight.

She wrapped her arms around his heaving shoulders, pressing breathless kisses to his neck and cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered back, framing her face with his hands and kissing her again. “I missed you _so_ much…so, so much.”

She smiled into the kiss. “How long do we have the room for?” she asked.

He grinned, lifting her tousled hair away from her face. “Until 10am tomorrow morning,” he replied. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly as she opened her mouth to speak. “Everything has already been arranged with Legolas and Vicky. They are more than happy to babysit the children overnight. Legolas was actually very supportive of this; he said he had absolutely no desire to hear us screaming and yelling our passion all night after being apart for so long.”

She started to laugh. “He’s such a shit,” she said. “When did you fix all this?”

“The day before yesterday,” he told her.

“He’s known all that time?!” she exclaimed. “He is so gonna pay for not telling me!”

Thranduil laughed, rolling onto his back, taking her with him. She sprawled across his chest, closing her eyes in contentment as his warm hand caressed up and down the curve of her spine. “He was warned within an inch of his life not to breathe a word,” he said. “And I think faced with the fact that if you found out, I would cancel the room and he would have to listen to us _bonking like rabbits_ as he phrased it, he had no trouble keeping quiet.”

She laughed softly, mesmerised by the sound of his heart beating strongly under her ear. “Ten days,” she murmered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Ten long, lonely days,” he said. “Never again.”


	2. Thranduil's Decision

** CHAPTER TWO **

****

Thranduil smiled as he paused at the bottom step, tugging Amay close. “One more kiss, before we venture into the Den of Destruction,” he murmered, zeroing in on her mouth.

She moaned softly as his warm flesh rubbed erotically over hers. “How can you _do_ this to me after the night we’ve just had?” she demanded, a little dazed as he pulled back.

He inhaled deeply through his nose. “It is you who does it to me,” he corrected her. “I just have to think of you, and nothing around me matters anymore. The last ten days have been murder, my love.”

She nodded, tightening her grip on his hand and ascending the steps with him. “I know, babe,” she said. “I really struggled too. It’s the first time since-“

“Dadda!” an excited little voice screeched as the front door flew open and crashed off the wall behind it.

Thranduil laughed and sank down onto his knees as a tiny bundle shot out and launched herself into his arms. “Hello, Adira,” he said, wrapping his arms around her as he let go of Amay’s hand.

“Dadda home!” another voice squealed, as Amaris hurtled like streak lightning in her twin’s footsteps.

Thranduil let out an exaggerated _ooof_  as the tiny terror leapt on him and he threw himself onto his back, a bundle of squirming arms and legs, and a racket of giggles and squeals of delight. “I see you too, Amaris,” he laughed, overjoyed at the welcome his girls were giving him.

“Dadda pwesent,” she demanded, her little face set in a frown as she studied him.

“No! Dadda home!” Adira insisted, trying to shove her sister off. “Dadda mine.”

Amay snorted with laughter as she side-stepped the wriggling mess that was her family, grabbing her husband’s hold-all and dumping it inside the door. “C’mon girls, let Daddy get indoors,” she said.

They ignored her.

“Dadda play horsey!” Amaris decided, crawling onto his back as he sat upright despite the tiny people hanging off him.

“Uh-uh,” her mother said, lifting the wriggling, kicking bundle from him and swinging her up onto her hip. “Daddy play horsey later.”

“No!” the toddler screamed, fists pounding.

“Hey,” Amay said sharply, and the fists halted. “Enough, young lady.”

Tiny eyebrows came down in a petulant scowl, but the child settled into a sullen silence. Thranduil smirked as he got to his feet, still with Adira clinging to him like a limpet.

“Well, well, well,” Legolas grinned, jumping down the last two steps of the staircase. “The love-birds are back! Enjoy yourselves, did we?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Amay grinned. “And you are _so_ dead, you should’ve been buried last bloody week!” she added on with a hiss.

Her step-son hooted with laughter. “What did I do?” he exclaimed, feigning innocence.

Thranduil stepped around his wife, still clutching his second-born, and wrapped an arm around his oldest son’s shoulders. “You kept our secret,” he grinned. “How are you, son?”

“Glad to have you back, Dad,” Legolas grinned. “Your _wife_ has been driving me _insane_ the _entire_ time you were away.”

“Well _poor_ you,” she shot back, crossing into the kitchen and depositing Amaris into her high chair. “Just wait and see what you’ll be like if you and Vicky ever have to spend time apart.”

He tossed his head dramatically. “I won’t be as bad as you,” he retorted. “I wouldn’t be staring into my dinner every evening, moody, crying every night-“

“Enough, Legolas,” Thranduil interrupted. “Amethyst wasn’t the only one to suffer while I was away. I missed her too, more than you can understand given your lack of maturity right now.” A slight anger presented itself in his words.

“Sorry, Amay,” his son said, realising he had overstepped a line.

“It’s ok,” she sighed. “He’s home now, and that’s what’s important.” She flashed a grin at both males.

“Ah…here comes my other son,” Thranduil said, spotting Vicky descending the stairs with the child in her arms. “How are you, Vicky?”

“I’m good, and you?” she returned, handing the infant over and taking Adira in exchange.

Tiny fists immediately grabbed handfuls of his long blond hair and yanked, making him yelp.

“Yes, I’ve missed you too, Handsome Boy,” he grinned, rubbing the top of his fluffy head. “I swear you’ve grown to twice the size since I’ve been away!”

“He’s eating everything in sight,” Amay said as she buckled the safety harness around her wriggling daughter. “I swear he’s turning out to be a human trash bin.”

Vicky laughed. “He sure put away a lot through the evening,” she said. “I made up some fruity porridge and he wolfed the lot within seconds, so I gave him a second plate and he devoured that too.”

“Little hollow-legs,” she grinned, tickling under his chin as he cuddled into the strong, protective arms that held him. “Aren’t you, Fin?”

The baby coo’d and giggled.

“I’ll take your bag upstairs, dad,” Legolas offered, and lifted it. “Did you bring us anything?”

“Who is the child here?” Thranduil asked incredulously. “No, I did not. You earn a good wage; go buy your own treats and stop depending on your parents to provide them. Good grief.”

Amay chuckled as she spooned coffee into two cups. “Any phone calls while we were away?” she queried.

“Nope,” Vicky replied. “It was all quiet on the Western Front.”

Amay happened to look up and catch the look that passed between her friend and her step-son, and shook her head as he blushed and shot up the stairs. “I really don’t want to know,” she muttered. Following her husband through to the comfortable living room, she lowered herself to sit beside him and placed his coffee on the low table before them, content to leave the girls with Vicky, who was preparing fresh fruit for them.

“Thankyou, darling,” he said with a smile. “It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home,” she told him. “By the way, I reorganised the closet in our room and got torn in about the shelves in the basement.”

He frowned. “Keeping yourself busy, were you?” he quipped.

“Something like that,” she said, a softer touch to her voice.

He smiled again, squeezing her hand briefly before shifting the jelly-baby on his lap and holding him upright with his large hands securely under his arms. Tiny legs started to bounce rapidly on his thighs, and Fin squealed with delight.

“Have you been in Indigo’s?” he asked.

“I went in for a couple of hours,” she replied, blowing on her hot coffee and taking an experimental sip. “Ouch. I did three hours on Wednesday and Friday two weeks ago, and it didn’t seem like there was anything they couldn’t cope with. Ray had everything under control.”

He nodded, grinning as his son bounced like there was no tomorrow. “He’s proven his worth over the last eighteen months or so,” he said. “I see a difference in him; he has matured.”

“Ha. Sometimes. When it suits him,” she said. “He still has his moments. But I definitely think this fella he’s with is a good influence on him.”

Her best friend had been going steadily with a man a year older for the last six months.

“People evolve,” her husband said. “Hey, steady on, my little Prince,” he laughed as Fin leapt enthusiastically on his upper legs. “Your little feet are solid.”

A volley of baby-babble was the response, accompanied by a multitude of bubbles as he continued. Amay grinned, thankful Thranduil had strong hands to hold him safely.

“I think Indigo’s is getting busier,” she said. “I had a quick check of the figures on Friday, and they’re up by roughly fourteen percent on last year.”

He glanced at her, his eyebrows raised. “That’s good,” he said. “If that looks like it’s going to become a trend, we’ll have to take on more staff.”

“Maybe,” she murmered. “Let’s see how it goes first, though. It would be crap to take extra people on and then have to let them go if it didn’t pan out.”

“I may pop in tomorrow evening,” he said. “Would Mrs Oropherion be interested in going?”

“Only if Mr Oropherion was the one accompanying her,” she grinned. “Else she would not wish to be seen on the arm of another.”

“I would break his fucking arms,” he muttered, and she roared.

“Settle down, Tyson,” she laughed, placing a calming hand on his arm. “I’m surprised you’re still awake; you must be jet-lagged to the depths of hell and back.”

He shrugged, turning Fin and sitting him down on his knee so he was facing his mother. “I’m not too bad,” he replied. “I had sleep.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “When?” she demanded.

He smirked. “I dozed in between,” he said.

Her gaze was drawn to his full mouth, and sparks started hurtling through her body. “Stop that shit,” she grumbled, looking away with a scowl, and he laughed.

He moved one hand and turned her head back towards him, leaning over Fin and gently rubbing his mouth over hers with a soft moan.

“Oh Jesus, they’re at it already,” Legolas announced, having walked into the lounge, spinning on his heel and walking straight back out again. “Last night was supposed to be you two getting all that sex-stuff out of your system!” he yelled from halfway across the kitchen.

“He is only jealous because I have more sex than he does,” Thranduil murmered as he pulled back. “And better sex, too.”

“You’re terrible,” Amay laughed. “Give Fin to me and you can have your coffee.”

The excited boy settled on her lap, lying back in her arms and gazing around contentedly.

His father frowned. “Why does he not do that with me?”

“Because he looks at you and thinks _yeeha – carry on time_ whereas I don’t encourage him the way you do,” she told him. Her gaze softened as she watched the child she held, his little fist rammed into his mouth, big, ice blue eyes darting everywhere.

So like Thranduil’s.

“What do you have planned for today?” he asked, stretching an arm across her shoulders as he drank his coffee.

Her gaze shifted as he crossed one long leg over the other.

_Damn._

“Absolutely nothing, now,” she grinned. “I’d originally planned on taking the kids over to Pinemar just to waste some time, but now you’re here…”

He smiled, his thumb rubbing slow, sensuous circles on the back of her neck. “I still cannot believe you didn’t work out what I had planned.”

Her grin turned to a scowl. “I really thought you had me picking up some tomato-faced, over-weight, snot-nosed executive,” she grumbled.

“Imagine your surprise when you picked me up instead,” he teased. “I’ll bet your little heart was beating like a drum.”

“You have no idea.”

His blue eyes sparkled. “I saw the look on your face,” he reminded her. “I saw your eyes go huge, your jaw drop, and the speed with which you flew across that airport floor. You didn’t know whether to cuddle me, or kill me.”

She laughed. “I was just like _oh my God, you’re home!”_  she said. “I’m actually surprised I didn’t break your back, the way I just jumped on you.”

“I expected it, and was ready,” he replied. “It felt so good to have you in my arms, baby.”

“It felt so good to be there,” she whispered, losing herself in his eyes.

*****

“Heyyyy, boss,” Ray cheered. “Good to have you back!”

“Good to be back,” Thranduil replied, grinning as shook his assistant manager’s hand. “Everything alright here?”

“Everything’s tickety-boo,” he answered. “Gary! Get boss a coffee!”

“Will do,” the barman yelled back. “Hey, boss. Good to see you.”

Thranduil waved in response.

“Amay texted and said the timesheet’s on the desktop, and told me to ask if you’d give it a quick check then process it through to payroll,” Ray told him.

“Sure. I’ll take my coffee up to the office with me,” he said. “Is there anything else that needs my attention while I’m here?”

The deputy shook his head. “Nope. The liquor delivery is due tomorrow, sometime before lunch. Other than that, it’s all quiet.”

The blond nodded, grabbing the cup Gary slid along the length of the bar. “Thankyou,” he said. “Fine. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

Ray went back to his duties, and Thranduil ascended the stairs. He breathed deeply as he reached the first floor, smiling as he acknowledged inwardly just how good it did feel to be back on what he considered to be his home turf. London was alright to visit and conduct business, but it no longer felt like home.

Home was where Amethyst was.

He closed the office door and crossed the thick carpet to the desk, setting his coffee down as he sat in the leather swivel chair, booting up the laptop in front of him. His fingers drummed on the polished surface as he waited.

Going over the timesheet took only a short amount of time. Amay was pretty good with figures and numbers, and was pedantic when it came down to detail. Scanning her entries against what had been scribbled onto a loose sheet of paper in the top drawer of the desk, he smiled as he clicked the save option, copied and minimised the screen, clicking on the email logo.

He opened up a new draft and pasted the document, sending it through to payroll at lightning speed. One task completed.

He slid his finger over the pad to close off the emails, when something caught his eye, and he frowned. An email was sitting from a prominent bank.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped the pad.

The email opened.

_For the attention of Mrs Amethyst Oropherion_

_Further to your recent application, we are delighted to confirm that as requested, a loan for the sum of twenty thousand dollars ($20,000.00 USD) has been agreed on, in principal._

_If you would like to proceed with your application, please respond within ten working days, after which the offer will be withdrawn and you may need to reapply._

_Thankyou for your application._

The email blurred before Thranduil’s eyes as he frowned.

What the hell was Amay up to? Why had she applied to borrow money, when they were worth millions??

Anger surged through him. He knew she hated asking him for money, and shortly after their wedding he’d carried out his promise and put her name on the accounts. She had access to everything he did, yet she still asked his permission when she wanted to buy something.

Twenty grand was a different kettle of fish though. She had something major in mind, and his brain went at a thousand miles an hour as he tried to figure out what she was up to.

He swung his feet back to the floor, having rested them up on the corner of the desk, and swivelled the seat so he was facing the screen full-on. Scrolling through the contents of the inbox, he came across another.

His heart missed a beat as he registered the sender.

He clicked on it.

_Dear Mrs Oropherion_

_As per your consultation, we are pleased to tell you that a date has been provisionally set for your surgery. Upon receipt of the agreed amount, we will contact you and confirm the date._

_Thankyou for your interest in our clinic, and we look forward to hearing from you._

A date had been included, set for six weeks ahead.

Thranduil blinked as he slowly leaned back in the chair. The clinic specialised in breast enlargements.

His wife had borrowed money to have her breasts done.

Like hell.

He lurched forwards again, his face a hard mask of anger as he clicked on the email.

_Following further discussions with myself, my wife Mrs Oropherion has decided she no longer wishes to have the discussed procedure, and sends her apologies._

_Yours, Thranduil Oropherion._

Send.

He then moved to the email regarding the bank loan, sending a similar response and cancelling the application. Thudding his middle finger with a vengeance against the enter key to send it, he leaned back again and folded his arms.

It was time he and Amay had a talk.


	3. Confrontation

** CHAPTER THREE **

****

Amay slammed the car door hard enough to cause an earthquake, and stormed up the steps. Her heartbeat was erratic, her blood pressure through the roof, and her breathing uneven. A loud _whoosh_ ing noise filled her ears, and she could have sworn that the old adage of seeing red mist was actually true.

The front door banged, the noise echoing through the house.

Through in the kitchen, Thranduil didn’t flinch as he heard his wife’s furious footsteps pounding through their home. He knew without turning around the exact moment she set eyes on him.

She stopped in the doorway, fists clenched at her sides, anger flooding through her in torrential waves. “What the hell have you done?” she hissed.

He lifted his head from the newspaper he had been reading, and slowly turned in his seat. “About?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” she snapped. “What the _fuck_ were you doing going through my emails, taking control and sending responses that I didn’t want sent?!”

“Stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” he replied, rising to his feet and folding the newspaper closed. “And for what it is worth, the emails were not in your private account. They were in the business emails. That means I need no permission to view them.”

She threw her car keys down, sending them skittering along the glossy worktop. “You had no right!” she shouted. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Why would you arrange something like that?” he shouted back, his own anger sparking to life. “Jesus Christ Amethyst, you took out a goddamned _loan!_ You have literally millions of dollars in the bank, yet you apply for a loan?? Why? In God’s name, why?”

“Because this has nothing to do with you!” Her eyes were ablaze with her temper. “I didn’t want anyone to know about this until it was over and done with, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask you for the money to do it!”

“Why the hell do you even want to do it?” he yelled, bracing his fists on the worktop that separated them. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with you?” she shot back. “You had _no_ right, Thranduil, no right to cancel everything!”

“You should have discussed this with me first,” he snapped. “It’s a life-changing decision, Amethyst, and potentially a life- _ending_ one at that.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Don’t be so damned melodramatic,” she said. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Well if it isn’t a mountain, why did you arrange everything in secret, when I was out of the country?” he demanded.

“Because it’s _my_ life, and _my_ choice,” she retorted.

He shook his head slowly. “You did not think this through.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m an unruly child,” she warned, folding her arms defensively. “I’m not the one who was snooping around answering other peoples’ emails!”

“You are not _other people,_ dammit…you’re my _wife!_ ” he barked. “My opinion on this whole ridiculous idea of yours should mean something to you!”

“Your opinion right now is bullshit,” she hissed. “What the hell gives you the right to make decisions for me, without asking me, going behind my back?”

“The fact that I am your husband, and what you do concerns me, as what I do concerns you!” he shouted, storming past her.

She followed him into the lounge. “You stepped over the line,” she said angrily.

“You cannot even see the fucking line,” he snarled back.

Legolas looked away from the tv screen and the game he was playing, his eyes large as he glanced between the warring couple.

“Do you realise the crap I’m going to have to come up with if I go ahead with this?” she demanded, fists on her hips.

“Your point is asinine, because you are not going through with it,” he shot back. “We can discuss it, and look at the options.”

“You can kiss my arse,” she informed him. “I don’t need your permission.”

“No, but you do need my goddamned name on the paperwork!” he yelled. “The second you put Oropherion on the forms, they would have been falling over themselves to get you drawn in!”

Legolas’s head flipped back and forth.

She glared at her husband, knowing that he was right on that point.

“I just don’t…I don’t understand!” Thranduil ranted, dragging his hands through his hair then throwing them up in a gesture of frustration. “Why would you want to do it, to put yourself through that? Jesus Christ…”

“Maybe some of aren’t born bloody perfect!” she shouted. “Some of us have to work at it! Some of us have to put some effort into trying to look attractive!”

“What?!” His voice rose incredulously. “Amethyst, I fucked you _four_ times back-to-back in that hotel the other night, then again in the morning! If _that_ doesn’t tell you that I find you attractive, I don’t know what the hell will!”

“Uh…I’m still here,” Legolas said pointlessly.

“You hadn’t had any for ten fucking days!” she roared. “Maybe you were so fucking tightly wound up that I could have looked like the Hunchback of fucking Notre Dame and you would’ve still fucked me!”

“Stop swearing,” he said.

“Fuck you,” she spat. “You know what you married, don’t try to change me now.”

“So I can’t ask you to refine your cursing and swearing, but it’s alright for you to have a surgeon butcher you?” he scowled. “That’s double standards, if ever I heard them!”

“That’s my choice to make, not yours,” she ground out, breathing hard. “You had _no_ right to over-ride my decision Thranduil, no right.”

“What are we debating? A tummy tuck? A boob job? A nose job?” Legolas asked.

“Legolas, get out,” Thranduil growled, not taking his eyes from his wife’s.

“Clear a path, people,” his son muttered, getting up and hurrying from the room.

“You are out of order,” she said, shaking her head. “Totally and completely so far out of order, it’s not even funny.”

He stepped closer to her, fury blazing in his ice blue eyes. “You making that choice and arranging everything without having the decency to tell me is out of order, Amethyst,” he replied, his tone low and angry. “You clearly do not hold any value to what I might think.”

“And you clearly do not hold any value to what I might want,” she retorted. “Mister goddamned Perfect, who has the looks of a fucking God doesn’t need to think or care how he looks, because he looks so perfect every single day.”

He closed his eyes and looked away from her for a second. “Listen to yourself,” he said. “Just stop, take a step back, and listen to yourself.”

“At least the voice I hear will be telling me what I want it to!” she snapped, turned, and stormed out of the room.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no reasoning with his stubborn, hot-headed wife when she was in a mood like this, and he knew it would be a waste of time to follow her. The argument would only escalate, things would be said to deliberately hurt each other, and tears would fall.

He didn’t want that.

*****

“Legolas said you guys had a huge fight,” Vicky commented.

Thranduil’s hands hesitated over the keys of his laptop, but he said nothing.

“Is this about Amay wanting her boobs done?” she asked.

He frowned, glancing over his shoulder. “Has she said anything about that?” he asked.

Vicky grunted. “No, but I know how she thinks,” she replied, stabbing at a button on the remote control. Her gaze flipped to Fin, who was sleeping in his carry cot next to her, before going back to the tv. “You know why she’s gone like this?”

He abandoned the laptop, turning in his seat to face her.

She looked over at him. “Sophie’s had hers done,” she said.

He blinked in confusion. “Amethyst wouldn’t give her the time of day,” he said. “How would she know what she’d had done?”

“Because she’s plastering photos all over her facebook and twitter pages,” she answered. “Damn…that’s a re-run. Yeah, one of the guys in the club a few weeks ago was passing his cellphone around, and there’s Sophie with the biggest pair you could imagine. She looks pretty damned good, I have to credit her with that much. Still a skank though.”

Thranduil looked away, his mind turning over what he’d just heard.

Now everything made sense.

Ridiculously self-conscious at the best of times, Amethyst had obviously seen the pictures and they had burrowed into a tiny gap in her subconscious mind, festering and growing, and sprouting into something preposterously huge.

She always commented on how little effort he put into looking the way he did, and always had a little seed of concern that someday a beauty would catch his eye and he’d be off. Her mother’s toxic words before the birth of Amaris and Adira had served only to fuel that insecurity. Rating herself way down the ladder from him in the looks department, Amay struggled with her own demons as she experimented with her hair and makeup to try and look her best for him, even though he’d said a million times that he thought she was gorgeous.

His gaze shifted back to his son’s girlfriend. “I found her emails and replied to them, cancelling the surgery,” he said quietly.

“Oh Thranduil…you’ve wounded her,” she said sympathetically. “You know how low her self-esteem is.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said softly. “I do not want her to go through with the operation; it’s dangerous. And it’s brutal. The women are treated no better than a slab of meat on a butcher’s block.”

“She’ll probably know this, she researches everything before she commits herself,” Vicky replied. “But put yourself in her place for a few minutes. I’m not saying she’s right, but if she didn’t talk to you about it, she’s maybe desperate enough that she’s still trying to convince herself that she’s doing the right thing.”

He mulled over what she’d said. “She’s perfect the way she is,” he said eventually.

“Yes, and it’s great that you think like that, particularly after she’s birthed three children.”

“Three of my children,” he murmered.

“Uh-huh. But women think differently. We don’t want to see ourselves solely as child-bearing machines; we want to be sexy for our partners, we want to be able to snap our fingers after being together for ten years and still make our guy go weak at the knees. So we take steps to try and make that a reality.”

He propped his elbow on the back of the chair and rested his chin on the heel of his hand. “So you are saying I should back off and let her go through with it?”

“Hell no!” she said, shocked. “But try to meet her half-way, and listen to what she has to say. Maybe you can agree on a middle ground, rather than screaming the odds at each other across a football stadium.” She laughed. “Legolas is still horrified at the thought of you guys doing it four times in a row.”

His cheeks turned pink. “I actually forgot he was in the room when I said that,” he muttered.

She got up, tossing the remote onto the couch. “Hey, you guys are human, and you’re absolutely nuts about each other,” she grinned. “Like I said…after three kids? Gotta be something there, man. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” he murmered, lost in thought.

Amay hadn’t spoken to him or looked at him since their fight earlier, and had taken off to pull a shift in Indigo’s without even saying goodbye. He’d simmered quietly for the rest of the evening, still pissed about what she’d done, pissed about her doing it without telling him, and pissed at their argument.

He knew she was trying to build her confidence and at the same time, keep him interested. But surely she had to realise he was crazy about her? There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, he worshipped her, but obviously she was still fighting her past, and that thought unsettled him.

He dragged his hands through his hair, sighing heavily. The thought of her going through the procedure made him feel physically sick.

But she was his world, and whether he agreed with her or not, he couldn’t stop her from flying.

*****

Amay cursed under her breath as she pushed her weight against the screw-driver. The screw holding the broken light fitting together didn’t budge. Grunting in frustration, she shifted position on the rickety step-ladder, sitting astride the top with her right leg curled around the rear side-rail for stability. Having kicked her flip-flops off, she twisted her foot around the metal rail.

She was low.

Having still been angry after closing Indigo’s in the early hours, she’d gone home and purposefully stayed out of Thranduil’s way, choosing to sleep on the sofa bed in the twins’ room. She’d lain awake for a long time, with reality finally kicking in.

Maybe she should have talked to him about what she’d planned and arranged. Maybe he did have a right to know.

But she was fiercely stubborn and independent, and hadn’t wanted to ask him for the cash for the surgery. She knew he’d talk her out of it, knowing how he felt about her. But having seen Sophie’s pictures splashed all over her social network pages, her confidence had plummeted.

Thranduil had had the chance with her before the girls were born, yet he’d turned her down and avoided her. What would happen if he was to come face-to-face with her glamorous new figure? Low-cut tops that looked like they’d been spray-painted on, voluptuous curves that could halt a stampede from a hundred paces – or start one – were never ignored by the male species.

After Fin’s birth, Amay felt that her figure had gone to the dogs, or partway there anyway. Booster bras could only do so much, and the rest just fell by the wayside.

Sometimes literally.

She felt guilty, and was questioning her sanity at even looking into having surgery in the first place.

Thranduil meant too much to her to lose him, particularly over something as shallow as this.

A movement caught her eye, and she spotted him walking down the back corridor towards the open floor. Tall, elegant, graceful, long blond hair streaming over his shoulders…enough to take anyone’s breath away.

Gritting her teeth in determination, she leaned her full weight into the tool in her hands and tried to twist the fitting free. The ladder wobbled slightly, and she braced her other foot underneath the rung below her.

A gentle touch on her ankle made her look down.

Thranduil gazed back up at her. Lowering his eyes to her leg, he gently twisted her leg back around the ladder. “If the ladder was to fall, you would break your leg,” he said quietly. “You would not have the time to jump clear.”

She swallowed, unable to tear her gaze away. His warm hand caressed her ankle.

“You may not put as much value to your well-being as I would like, but I do,” he said.

He held his hand up and she hesitated before taking it, accepting his guidance as she climbed down the ladder, until she stood before him.

A hush had fallen over the few staff present, her earlier mood having been enough to tell them without words that she and Thranduil had been fighting.

She blinked, uncertain of what was going through his mind.

He blinked, gazing deep into her eyes. Deep blue eyes that held so much sadness, and a look that was bordering on a pleading look.

He tipped her chin up with one finger and brushed a feather light kiss across her lips. A soft whimper sounded from her as his warm mouth touched hers, the faintest hint of a kiss that held the promise of so much more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered back.

“We have to talk, baby,” he told her.

She nodded. “I know.”

He studied her for a moment or two. “I have to call Bard, but it will be a brief call,” he said. “Meet me when I’m done?”

“I will,” she promised.

“Good.” He hesitated for a second, before leaning down and crushing her mouth with his in a brief, but deep kiss. “And delegate. Get one of the guys to fix the light fitting.”

She swiped her tongue across her lower lip as he turned and strode away, entranced by his hair swishing against his back as he climbed the stairs to the office on the upper floor.


	4. Understanding And Compromise

** CHAPTER FOUR **

****

Thranduil descended the stairs, his eyes on Amay. She stood next to the ladder, her arms folded, her head tilted up as she watched Stevie change the light fitting that she’d tried to fix herself. Balancing one foot on the bottom of the ladder and unfolding her arms to grip the structure to stabilise it, she shook her head, saying something which he couldn’t pick up.

She turned her head as he stepped off the bottom step, meeting his eyes with a hesitant, uncertain look.

He crossed over to her, taking her hand. “Call if you need us,” he said to Ray, who was going through a pile of paperwork behind the bar.

“Will do, boss,” he replied, flashing a grin. “Have fun, guys.”

Thranduil led her out of the nightclub and over to the CRV, holding the passenger door open for her as usual.

Neither of them spoke as he drove, and he pulled into a parking lot outside a cluster of stores after driving for a few miles. Getting out of the car, he disappeared and returned within a few minutes, handing her two takeaway coffee cups.

He drove for a short while, stopping the vehicle by a scenic viewpoint and turning the engine off. Amay handed him his coffee, and they sat quiet for a few minutes.

“This is the first place you brought me to, the first day I met you,” he said, eventually breaking the silence.

She smiled. “I remember,” she replied. “I picked you up from the hotel in West Boulevard.”

He glanced over at her. “You were wearing black trousers and a black top with a lacy panel across the chest. If I remember correctly, you also had on black flip-flops, with sparkles.”

Her eyebrows rose briefly. “I couldn’t have told you that,” she said, surprised.

He smirked, turning back to the view and sipping his coffee. A few more minutes passed, and he reached over for her hand, placing it on his thigh.

“If you really want to go through with the operation, I will pay for you to have it done,” he said after a long silence. “But I will research every clinic, every surgeon, and every recovery program beforehand, and have a say in which one you use.”

She stared at him, stunned.

He looked back at her, waiting for her response.

Nothing.

Shifting his body slightly, he turned in his seat to face her. “Amethyst?”

She shook her head, turning to look out of the side window of the car.

He squeezed her fingers gently. “Talk to me,” he said softly, and waited while she collected her thoughts.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said finally.

He took another sip of coffee. “I know you probably better than anyone else,” he told her. “I know what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, and what makes you angry. I can read your thoughts just by looking into your eyes. You are unsure about doing this; I can see and feel it.”

She inhaled deeply, but said nothing.

“If you are having doubts, talk to me about them,” he said.

She blinked as she felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but his sharp gaze picked up on their presence.

“You _are_ having second thoughts,” he murmered.

“Second, third, and fourth,” she admitted.

He released her hand and brought his hand up to her chin, turning her head so she would look at him. “Why? Because we fought?”

“No. Yes. That, and other things as well,” she said.

He took a deep breath. “I only wish for you to be happy, Amethyst. And by telling you what you can and cannot do will not make you happy,” he said. “But I also prioritise your health and your wellbeing, and there are so many risks involved in plastic surgery.”

“I know.”

“So tell me what troubles you.” He reclaimed her hand, and waited patiently.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Nothing. Everything.”

“He who hesitates is lost,” he quoted. “Or in your case, she.”

The minutes ticked silently past.

“I’m scared,” she whispered eventually.

He sat his coffee on the dash and gripped her upper arms, turning her to face him. “Then _why_ are you even considering doing it?” he asked beseechingly.

Deep blue eyes lifted to his. “A few reasons,” she said, and he knew she was struggling to open her thoughts up to him. “Quite a few reasons.”

“Alright, let’s go through them, one by one,” he said, and leaned his shoulder against the back of his seat. “No judgements, no arguing, just honest thoughts.”

“I’ve had three children,” she said, picking nervously as something non-existent on her seat. “That’s taken a toll on me.”

“I can understand that,” he told her. “From a husband and a lover’s point of view, the only changes I am aware of are some little stretch-marks, nothing more.”

She leaned her head back. “Everybody seems to be having it done,” she said.

“Everybody, as in Sophie everybody?” he asked, and her gaze shot to his. He shook his head. “I had heard that she’d had hers done.”

“She looks amazing,” she admitted grudgingly, in a quiet voice. “She looks like a model.”

“Yet she is still hollow inside, bitter, and alone,” he commented. “Plus she has the guilt of knowing she stole quite a substantial amount from her friends and employers, who would’ve looked after her. Well, maybe not after she tried to infringe on our marriage, but you get my point. We would not have seen her struggle to survive.”

“She’s lucky she did survive,” Amay muttered, and he smiled.

“She’s gone, and she’s never coming back to interfere in our lives,” he said.

Silence filled the car again.

“I’m getting older,” she whispered.

He frowned. “We all are,” he pointed out.

“Some people aren’t showing it,” she said, glancing at him.

The penny dropped. “Oh, Amethyst,” he murmered. “Amethyst, Amethyst. What am I going to do with you?”

A silent tear rolled down her cheek.

“I really don’t know what to say to fix this,” he said.

“I don’t know if it can be fixed,” she said.

He turned her chin back to him again. “Yes, it can,” he said, a determined tone in his voice. “This all goes back to the bullshit you’ve listened to in the past; your bastard ex filling your head with nonsense, and your mother telling you that you wouldn’t be able to keep me.”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“Definitely,” he corrected. He sighed. “Walk with me.”

She blinked in surprise as he got out of the car, and shrugged as she slid out of her side. Taking her hand tightly in his, they walked along the path that accessed the beach.

“I honestly do not think your body has changed after having the children,” he said. “Obviously, you must feel that it’s different. I can’t tell, but appearance-wise, I see no changes.”

“I feel like my boobs aren’t…I don’t know, not perky, but like gravity’s playing a part in it now,” she told him.

He glanced at her. “I distinctly remember examining them in _great_ detail only a few nights past,” he reminded her. “And I noticed no change.”

She shrugged.

“You’re being self-conscious, which is fine. But I just worry that you’ll allow it to rule you,” he said. “Everybody has concerns about their appearance, Amethyst. It’s normal to care how you look. But I recall you going through a similar phase soon after the twins were born, when Sophie started her cutting remarks.”

She huffed. “Have you seen the photos she’s posted?” she asked.

“No. And I have no desire to see them,” he replied. “I could not care less what she looks like. It is of no interest to me, therefore I do not need to see them.”

“I’m kinda glad you haven’t,” she muttered.

“Why do you seem to think that she’s an irresistible magnet?” he asked curiously. “Men can look at a woman and say no.”

“Guys don’t say no to her,” she said.

“I did,” he reminded her. “The horrible woman could strip off and parade her wares under my nose, and I would have zero interest in her.”

Amay glanced at him.

“I wouldn’t,” he reiterated. “I know what I like, and she has none of it.”

“You must be the only male who wouldn’t take it if she offered it on a plate,” she said.

“Bard didn’t want it either,” he replied. “Remember?”

She shrugged.

“Forget her,” he told her. “Now tell me why you worry about getting older.”

“I don’t,” she answered. “But maybe I’m starting to show signs of getting older.”

“Whereas I obviously am not,” he supplied. “And this is the root of this entire situation, my darling. Not having the children, and not Sophie. It’s this.”

She didn’t answer, and he stopped, turning his body so that he stood in front of her. Ice blue eyes held hers, refusing to let her look away.

“Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror,” he said.

“Christ, talk about a loaded statement,” she said. “Ok. Sometimes I see someone who has worked her arse off all her life, and feels pretty good about herself that she’s done that. I see someone who’s mum to three gorgeous kids, even though she’s knackered beyond reasoning sometimes as she works, does her mum stuff, and does her wife stuff.”

“You see something else,” he said softly.

“Yes.”

“You see my wife.”

She nodded, taking in a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

He tipped her chin up. “You do not see what I see,” he said, his velvet voice infused with emotion. “I see my wife whom I absolutely _idolise,_ and would do anything for. I see the mother of my beautiful children, and I see my future. I see an amazing, unique being who has the power to arouse me to bursting point with a single glance. I see the woman I will spend the rest of my life with; loving her, cherishing her, and doing everything that she needs me to.”

His words turned over and over in her mind.

“You look at me and see something entirely different, do you not?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” she admitted. “I see a man who completely turned my world upside down and inside out, who treats me like a Goddess even though I don’t deserve it. I see a man who has complete control over me and my emotions, and who could probably get me to agree to anything just by snapping his fingers.” She hesitated. “And I see a man who has the looks of a God and probably shouldn’t be with someone who looks like-“

He swooped closer and crushed her mouth under his, his kiss forceful and loaded with meaning. “Do not _ever_ say what you were about to say,” he whispered angrily as he pulled back a little. “There is no other way to anger me faster, Amethyst. Looks are nothing; they are genetic. You did not fall in love with my looks, you fell in love with the person inside.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But when I look at the person, I see someone who I could never measure up to.”

Sadness flooded through him, and it showed in his eyes. “You do not have to measure up to _anyone,_ ” he said softly. “If anything, we should all have to measure up to _you._ You have a heart and soul like I’ve never known before, and it completely amazes me.”

She mulled over what he had said.

“If it makes you any happier, I shall wear baggy, moth-eaten clothes that aren’t fit for the trash, cut my hair, grow a beard-“

She gasped. “Oh my God you will _not!_ ” she exclaimed. “You arse! Stop it.”

He grinned. “See? You wouldn’t ask me to change my looks, and I do not wish for you to change yours either,” he pointed out. “So what’s the difference?”

She studied him, realising he’d snookered her. Shaking her head, she smothered a smile as she looked away from him.

“I love everything about you, my darling,” he told her. “I do not want you to change. You’re perfect the way you are. But my offer remains. I’ll pay for the surgery if you really want it.”

“I don’t know if I want it or not,” she sighed. “I thought I did, and it felt like the answer to everything when I considered it, but as the days rolled past, I started having doubts.”

They started walking again, and she kicked off her flip-flops to feel the warm sand between her toes.

“I have no doubt that if I hadn’t found out, you’d have gone through with it anyway,” he commented. “You have a very stubborn and determined streak, my love.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I would’ve bottled out of it.”

He swung their joined hands between them. “I’m sorry I went behind your back and cancelled everything,” he said.

“I’m sorry I did it all without saying anything,” she replied. “I know it was wrong, and I knew you’d be angry. I thought once it was done, we wouldn’t be able to change it and you’d eventually enjoy the benefits.”

He snorted softly. “There is the chance you would lose sensitivity,” he told her. “Did you know that?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Not always, but sometimes. And you would have scars, not to mention sometimes the surgery isn’t successful.”

“I know, I did see some gross pictures when I googled the procedure,” she responded.

“I did not fall in love with your breasts,” he said, glancing at her. “And for what it’s worth, I think they’re perfect the way they are. You can turn me on so fast and to such an intense state, I cannot even begin to explain it.”

“I shouldn’t have said you were desperate,” she grudgingly said. “That was shitty, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he said with a shrug. “Although Legolas still appears to be in a state of shock-come-horror at the thought of us fucking four times.”

She laughed, despite the seriousness of their topic. “I hadn’t even realised he was there.”

“Me neither,” he laughed. “Still – at least he knows his old man still has a sex life. A sex life with the most stunningly beautiful woman on the planet.” He stopped, turning her to face him once more. “When will you realise that? You have done what no-one else in the world could ever do, my darling. You made me fall so hard for you, so head-over-heels and arse-over-elbow in love with you. That will _never_ change. I promise.”

“And I love you just as much, probably more,” she said. “I know it sounds shite to you, but I really want to make sure I don’t lose your interest in me.”

He framed her face with his large hands, gazing into her eyes. “I cannot put into words how interested in you I am,” he told her. “I love you, I adore you, I worship you, and I want to fuck you a hundred times a day, and that’s just before breakfast. That will _not_ change, my darling. You mean the world to me, and I cannot and will not imagine living my life without you in it. Please listen to me.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, and he tenderly wiped one away with his thumb as it fell.

“I have a serious issue here, don’t I?” she whispered. “Tell me not to do this.”

“I can’t,” he whispered back. “I can’t make that choice for you.”

“Tell me not to do it, and I won’t go through with it,” she pleaded.

“You’re looking for a way out, baby…so don’t have the procedure done,” he said. “Deep down inside, you don’t want to, but you think you have to. To boost your self-esteem and to think that I won’t wander.”

She nodded, silent tears falling.

“I shall never wander,” he told her. “Never. Hell could freeze over and the demons could be wearing ice-skates, and I still would never look at anyone else.”

She managed a small laugh, despite her tears.

“Do whatever your heart tells you to do,” he encouraged her.

“My head tells me to do everything I can to keep catching your eye, but my heart tells me to listen to you and trust you, which I do,” she said. Her eyes closed, and she took a few breaths. Opening them again, she gazed into the ice blue that made her lose all sense of awareness to everything else around her. “I don’t want to have the surgery,” she whispered.

He inhaled deeply and wound his arms around her, enfolding her in a gentle, loving embrace. “I don’t want you to go through that either, my darling,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I love you just the way you are, and there is nothing I would change about you. Maybe your opinion of yourself, but that’ll take years. Years which I fully intend to be around for.”

She snuggled into him, sighing in contentment.

“And believe me, my darling, I will spend those years touching your breasts, licking them, sucking them, teasing them, and worshipping them the way they are supposed to be worshipped. You’re just perfect,” he murmered.

She tilted her face upwards, seeking his mouth. “I love you,” she whispered, as his lips met hers.

“I love you a million times more,” he replied.


	5. Reassurance

** CHAPTER FIVE **

****

Thranduil slid his arms around Amay’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Do you need a hand with that?” he enquired.

“No, I’ve got this,” she replied. “But thanks.” She turned her head and stole a quick kiss, before going back to mashing the potatoes. “Leggy! How hungry are you?” she yelled.

“I was really hungry, until I come in here and see you two all over each other,” he quipped, making a face as he entered the kitchen. “Leave her alone for five minutes, dad.”

“Grow up, son,” Thranduil replied dryly. “How do you think your sisters and your brother got here?”

“From under cabbage plants,” the younger blond shot back as he sat at the table. “Parents, bosses, and teachers are all in the same category – they don’t have sex. Period.”

Amay burst out laughing, swivelling round to lift a pile of plates. Thranduil moved with her, still with his arms around her. “You’re not right in the head,” she decided. “Sex is a way of life, it makes the world go round.”

“The way you two were at it, we’re lucky the world didn’t tip off its axis,” Legolas muttered.

“It did, for Amethyst,” Thranduil smirked, earning a gentle elbow in his ribs as his son made vomiting noises. “I made sure it did.”

“Stop that,” she said over her shoulder. “Honestly, you’re both as bad as each other. Go and bring the babies through, if you want to help me.”

“With pleasure, my darling,” he replied, and kissed her cheek before releasing her.

“Leggy, would you get the knives and forks out for me?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied, getting up and padding across the kitchen.

“Where’s Vicky tonight?” she asked.

“She’s gone to see her grandfather,” he told her.

“Is he still in hospital?”

“Mmm. They’re hoping he can get home by the weekend,” he said.

She glanced at him as she dished out the food. “Let me know if we can do anything,” she said.

He smiled. “Thanks, Amay. She’s struggling a little bit, seems to think he’s on his way out.”

She frowned. “He’s a damned good age, Leggy, it’s going to happen some day.”

A burst of noise made her look over towards the open doorway.

Thranduil was slowly and carefully walking into the kitchen, one daughter sitting on each foot with their arms and legs wrapped around his legs, laughing and screeching hysterically at their transport.

“I seem to have acquired two tiny extensions,” he explained at the look on her face.

The twins squealed louder.

Amay started to laugh, resting the masher on the worktop as she gave in to her amusement. “Oh my God, those girls have you twisted so tightly around their wee fingers,” she mused.

“And they know it,” he replied, bending to pry each daughter from his legs. “Come on Princesses, it’s time to eat. We can do this again afterwards.”

“Daddy ride!” Amaris yelled, fighting to keep her grip on his left leg.

Legolas chuckled. “I can remember you doing that with me when I was about four or five years old,” he said. “And at that age, you looked _huge._ ”

“He is!” Amay said. “He’s six feet five, for Chrissake.”

Thranduil glanced up at her and lifted one eyebrow, making her blush. “No, Amaris…dinner first before playtime,” he told his oldest daughter, who was heading towards a full-blown tantrum. Settling her into her chair and fastening the seat belt, he lifted Adira who was quite happy at the thought of food, and didn’t have her mother’s fiery temper.

“Runner beans, babe?” Amay asked over her shoulder.

“Please,” he replied. “Amaris, that is a spoon, my little cherub, not a weapon.”

The toddler smacked it off the table with force, as if to prove her father wrong.

He shook his head and crossed back to his wife, helping her to serve the meal.

“Have you heard from Bard lately?” she asked as she grabbed the slotted spoon from the drawer and proceeded to serve up the runner beans.

“No, he said he would call probably tomorrow, once he knows if the takeover bid was successful or not,” he told her. “Legolas, stop tormenting your sister.”

The blond huffed, but continued to provoke her behind his father’s back.

“I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t go through,” Amay said. “I’ve heard your pitches; they’re phenomenal.”

“Thankyou, darling,” he grinned, stealing a kiss as she passed him. “I hope the other company agrees. I put a lot into preparing my pitch for it.”

“You’ll be fine,” she replied, tossing the spoon into the sink. “I have every faith in you.”

“Legolas, you will know all about it when she bops you right on the nose,” Thranduil said irritably. “I’m quite positive about the bid, to be honest,” he said, turning his attention back to his lover and handing her a plate. “Bard’s really nervous, and I told him he was worrying over nothing.”

“He does get a bit fraught over work, doesn’t he?” she commented. “How’s the kids?”

“They’re doing really well, and growing really quickly,” he said.

Legolas let out a howl and they both turned to see him holding his right eye.

“Amaris whacked me with the bloody spoon!” he yelped.

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow and turned away again, choosing to ignore him. “He promised to bring the children over the next time he comes.”

Amay grinned as she carried two plates over to the table. “That would be amazing,” she said. “They’re terrific kids, so well-behaved and really mature.”

“Unlike some,” he muttered, carrying the rest of the plates over and setting them down. “I have no sympathy Legolas; I warned you not to provoke her. But you would not listen.”

His son continued to mutter under his breath, glaring at his sister. Amaris didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, wrinkling her nose at him and baring her teeth.

Amay deliberately looked away as she felt her laughter bubble to the surface. Lowering herself into the chair Thranduil had pulled out for her, she stabbed a piece of roast chicken with her fork. Her husband sat himself down across from her, eyeing his oldest son.

“One day you will learn that being older carries more knowledge,” he muttered. “Pass the salt please, darling.”

She handed the condiment over, murmering in satisfaction at the taste in her mouth. “This is actually not bad, considering I cooked it,” she said.

He laughed. “There is nothing wrong with your cooking,” he told her. “You just lack the patience required to stay with it and keep an eye on it.”

She huffed, holding out a small forkful of food to Amaris, who had decided her mother’s looked more appetising than what was on her plate. “There’s so much more I’d rather be doing than standing like a bloody mannequin in front of an oven.”

“Hey guys, can I take Vicky to the cinema tomorrow night?” Legolas asked, stuffing his face.

“Isn’t she working?” Amay asked with a frown.

“Uhhh yes…I just feel she could do with something to take her mind off things,” he replied, giving her a doe-eyed look.

Thranduil’s eyes met hers across the table.

“I’ll cover for her then,” she relented. “I know she’s struggling just now.”

“Thanks Amay, you’re the best,” he grinned.

“I know,” she quipped. “You owe me, though.”

“Yes…you can do the dishes,” his father suggested immediately. “Amethyst, I can cover the shift if you want, and you can have an early night with the babies.”

She shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she said. “Amaris, stop that,” she scolded her daughter, who had resorted to pulling her hair. “That hurts. If I go in, I can maybe find the time to go over Ray’s performance review while I’m there.”

“That’s fine, just let me know if you change your mind,” he said. “I do not think your little mouth could open any wider, my little cherub,” he said to Adira, who resembled a baby bird with her mouth open, waiting expectantly for the next forkful of food.

“Fin’s asleep early tonight,” Legolas commented.

“I had him out for a walk to see the horses earlier,” she responded. “I think the fresh air just before suppertime is good for him; he seems to fall asleep a lot easier and doesn’t fight it so much.”

Thranduil made low airplane noises as he swooped a forkful of food towards Adira, who giggled in response. “Legolas never wanted to sleep when he was a baby,” he said. “I used to walk the floor with him until the wee hours almost every night.”

She smiled, imagining her huge, strong giant tenderly holding his infant as he patiently paced the floor with him. Having seen him do the same with all three of the children she had given birth to, she knew just what a tender moment it was to witness. “Amaris, you can sit next to Daddy if you don’t behave,” she warned her oldest child. “Give me strength.”

*****

“I was beginning to wonder if the girls would ever fall asleep,” Amay said, spitting a mouthful of toothpaste down the sink and rinsing it away.

“They tire themselves out eventually.” Thranduil’s voice floated through from where he was lying on top of the bed.

“Thank God for small mercies,” she replied, rinsing with mouthwash. She moved to stand in front of the mirror and started brushing her hair.

Thranduil padded through silently and appeared behind her, placing his hands on her waist. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, and she smiled as she closed her eyes.

“Feel nice?” he murmered, his mouth moving up towards her ear.

“Mmm,” she replied, leaning her head back. “Feels great.”

His hands traced slow circles on her waist, the short satin gown radiating the heat from her through to him. “You look great,” he whispered.

The silky fabric lifted with the movement of his hands, revealing the tops of her thighs, and his touch shifted to caress the warm skin.

“And you feel great.”

Her breathing deepened at his sensual touch, her body responding and reacting in a way that only he could initiate. She leaned back against his chest, murmering in contentment.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispered erotically. “Right here, right now.”

His hands slid round to the cheeks of her backside, firmly caressing and kneading the voluptuous flesh. A soft gasp escaped as she pushed back against his touch. His mouth continued exploring her neck with gentle bites and warm, wet licks of his tongue.

She moaned slightly as she felt him pull his boxer shorts down, and his erection pressed against her, her legs parting of their own accord. Her eyes fluttered open and her heart missed a beat as she caught their reflection in the mirror in front of her. Her face was flushed, his body pressed tightly against hers, his long blond hair falling over her shoulder as he kissed her neck, entangling with her long black hair.

Her back arched as he nudged the tip of his erection in between her legs, slowly rubbing it back and forth before breeching her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered, slowly pumping his hips and going deeper with each thrust. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as he rocked into her. “So fucking wet…Jesus…”

She reached back and gripped his hips in an attempt to tug him closer than he already was. A deep moan echoed from the back of her throat as he pushed against her cervix, throbbing against her tightening muscles.

His tongue licked lightly around her ear, sending shivers down her back, and he grinned in response. Moving his lips back down, he kissed around to the back of her neck, nosing under her hair, before pulling back.

Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and started to thrust rhythmically, holding on to her. She began panting, her body having shot into full arousal as he’d appeared behind her. She gripped the edge of the counter in front of her, lowering her head as she pushed back each time his hips pushed forwards.

“Deeper baby, deeper,” she managed to gasp. “Oh my God…just like that…”

Bursts of electric energy fired through her body as he moved, and she felt her knees weakening as he took her rapidly through a vortex of pleasure. She adjusted her stance slightly so that her legs were a little further apart, giving him scope to penetrate her even deeper.

He didn’t disappoint.

His breathing became laboured as he pumped hard, his teeth clenched as he fought to hold an impending orgasm at bay. Amay lifted her hands and pushed against the mirror, her eyes meeting his.

Deep blue held ice blue as the tension between them climbed, the lust intensifying with the intimate gaze. He slowly licked his middle finger, and not taking his eyes from hers, slid it over her stomach and down between her legs to circle her clitoris.

She cried out at the heightened sensation, her arms trembling as she pushed hard against the mirror.

“Come for me, Amethyst,” he whispered. “Come hard for me.”

She couldn’t reply. His deep thrusts robbed her of the ability to think, let alone put words together. His hand between her legs completely clouded her mind, rendering her utterly at his mercy. Her mouth fell open and her eyes closed as she tightened around him, her body beginning to shudder. He swiftly covered her mouth with his other hand to stifle her screams as she climaxed, his mouth dropping to her neck and sucking hard.

He grunted in rhythm as he slammed harder into her clenching core, her fluid coating his upper thighs as she gushed in her orgasm. His hips propelled rapidly two or three more times, and he exploded with force into her. Clamping his arm around her waist, he supported her weight as her legs finally gave out and she sagged between his body and the counter top.

Breathing hard, she trembled as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. His mouth pressed a tender kiss to her cheek, and he rested his against her hair.

“Are you ok, my love?” he whispered after a few minutes.

She swallowed and nodded, too fatigued to reply.

He grinned, kissing her again. “Come on, I’ll help you into bed,” he said softly, slowly pulling out of her. Lifting a towel that had been tossed onto the counter, he carefully cleaned her, and tossed it into the laundry basket. He lifted her into his arms so she was cradled against his chest, and carried her through to the bedroom, depositing her carefully on the bed. Moving loose strands of her hair away from her face, he studied her flushed cheeks. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She smiled, opening her eyes. “Mm-hmm, just exhausted,” she replied. She pressed her palm against his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmered, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Did you ever doubt me?”

“No,” she said. “But I sometimes have the urge to tell you, and it won’t go away until I’ve said it.”

He returned her smile. “Then tell me as often as you wish, my darling. I will never tire of hearing those words.” Standing up to his full height, he turned and padded across the thick carpet. “I’m going to make a cup of tea…would you like one?”

“Please,” she answered, curling into the duvet.

She was sound asleep by the time he returned.

He smiled.


	6. Sudden Impact

** CHAPTER SIX **

****

“Legolas! For God’s sake, can’t you tear yourself away from that damned console for two seconds?!” Thranduil ranted, exasperated.

His oldest son glared at him. “Thanks, dad…I just lost a life!” he grumbled.

“A virtual life might not be the _only_ one you lose, you ridiculous example of youth,” his father muttered. “Have you seen Amethyst?”

“What? No, not in the last half hour,” Legolas huffed, hurriedly clicking options and pressing buttons on the controller.

“Well where was she the last time you saw her?”

“This house isn’t exactly a labyrinth; she won’t be far away,” he sighed. “She was in the bathroom when I passed earlier.”

Thranduil moved to turn away, then whipped back around again, glowering at the younger blond. “What were you doing nosing into the bathroom?” he demanded.

“Holy shit dad, calm down to a panic. She was climbing about the bath and the units, painting the ceiling.”

Thranduil felt like pulling his hair out. He didn’t know who was the worst between his son and his wife; both were always up to mischief or getting into something they shouldn’t. Muttering incoherently under his breath, he marched out of the large living room and took the stairs two at a time. He could hear Amay singing along with the radio as he neared the bathroom.

Opening the door, he shook his head.

There she was, one foot balanced precariously on the bath, the other on the counter-top, wobbling dangerously as she stretched to reach into an unpainted section of the ceiling. The foot on the bath bounced in rhythm to the music, making her balance even more unstable, but she didn’t seem to pay any attention.

“ _I find it so stupid, so why should I hide that I love to make love to you baby?”_ she sang. Her backside gave a little wiggle as she moved in time with the beat.

Thranduil cursed silently as he approached her, reaching up with one hand to whip the paintbrush out of her grasp and sliding the other arm tightly around her waist. He spun round and deposited her on the floor, to be met with her astonished gaze.

“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “You gave me the fright of my bloody life, dammit.”

He pointed the brush at her. “As you did to me, catching you balanced up there like that,” he said accusingly. “Goddamit, you’re going to drive me mad, you crazy woman.”

She made a _duh_ face at him. “Well unlike some people, I don’t have eighteen-feet-long legs!” she said. “Gimme that brush.”

He held it over his head as she reached for it, knowing it would annoy her.

“Thranduil! Give me the brush!” she wailed.

“No,” he said, turning back and sweeping it along the section she’d been trying to reach. “There,” he said, turning back to her. “How easy was that? All you had to do was ask.”

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “I could fall out with you _really_ easily, you know,” she threatened.

He smirked. “No you couldn’t.”

“Want to bet?” she challenged.

“Yes.” He set the brush down, lifting his hands and placing them at the back of her neck, his thumbs rubbing her erogenous zones just below her ears.

Her eyes fluttered closed, then snapped open again. “Quit that,” she said, pushing his hands away, and he laughed.

“I can get round you any time,” he said. “Seriously Amethyst…I do not want you climbing around like a monkey trying to reach what’s far too high for you.”

She jabbed her thumb towards herself. “Uh…wife, not daughter,” she reminded him.

“Thank fuck,” he retorted. “I’m serious.”

Seconds ticked past as she glared at him, the loving, caring look in his eyes gradually wearing her down.

As he’d said he could do.

“Oh you drive me fucking _mental!_ ” she spat, frustrated. “Fine. Get me some ladders then.”

He shook his head. “Why have a dog and bark yourself?” he reasoned.

She said nothing.

He stepped closer to her, making her lift her head to maintain eye contact. His gaze lowered to her lips, which parted of their own accord. Slowly lowering his head, he sighed softly as he gently caressed her mouth with his own. Her lips parted further, a silent invite for him to deepen the kiss, which he accepted and responded to. Her arms went up over his shoulders as his tongue probed into her mouth, encouraging hers into a sensual dance, his arms going around her waist to cross over her back.

She whimpered into his mouth, her fingers twisting into his hair as she responded with passion. Her body pressed against his, her breasts swelling against his chest.

“Oh bloody hell,” Legolas said, coming to a screeching halt in the doorway. “Can you guys take this someplace else? I really need to go.”

They broke apart, Amay’s cheeks turning pink.

“There are two other toilets in this house,” Thranduil reminded him, not releasing his hold on his wife.

“Yeah…but this one’s nearest, and I’m on a time-lock on level four,” he explained, barging inside.

“Oh good grief, let’s leave him to it,” Amay said, pulling him out of the bathroom. “I can finish the ceiling later.”

“I’ll finish it,” he said, placing his index finger over her mouth as she opened it to argue. “Sshhh.”

Taking her hand, he led her downstairs and through to the kitchen.

“I thought the babies would be awake by now,” she commented, folding her arms and leaning against the worktop to peer out of the window.

He filled the kettle and switched it on. “The girls took a little longer to fall asleep,” he replied. “I think we should probably give them maybe ten minutes or so, then wake them, or they won’t sleep tonight.”

She smiled, turning to face him. “Have you given any thought to birth control?” she asked.

“Not particularly,” he replied. “Why? Have you?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Technically, I shouldn’t have been able to conceive at all, yet we have three amazing kids,” she said. “Who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again? And our three are too young for me to cope with another if it was to happen.”

He inhaled through his nose. “You could be pregnant already,” he said. 

“Ha,” she laughed. “No, I’m not. I would know.”

He shrugged. “If it would make you comfortable, then we’ll go for it,” he advised. “I’m happy either way. All we need to do is pick which method suits us.”

“No condoms,” she said immediately.

“Why not?” he asked, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face. “Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but I’m just curious…you practically spat that out.”

“Because,” she replied, walking over to him and sliding her palms up his chest. “I like to feel flesh.” She whispered into his ear. “I like to feel skin. I like to feel you, all of you, every inch of you. I don’t want it shrink-wrapped.”

He chuckled. “We agree on something,” he mused, gazing down at her as she grinned.

“We agree on everything, except when it comes to me climbing more than an inch off the floor,” she retorted.

He turned to switch off the kettle as it boiled. “That’s because you are too precious to be abseiling around the house,” he informed her. “Coffee?”

“Please,” she said. “I need to shoot through to the club in a while…fancy coming with me?”

He nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said. “I want to pick up some fresh mushrooms, so we could get them on the way back.” He handed her a mug of coffee.

“Thankyou,” she said, taking it into the living room.

Fin and the twins lay asleep on top of a feather quilt, surrounded by soft pillows and cushions. The little boy began to stir, opening his eyes and yawning.

Thranduil lowered himself onto the couch, tugging Amay down beside him. “What on earth possessed you to start painting the bathroom ceiling anyway?” he asked with a slight frown.

“I was lying in the bath last night just looking up,” she replied. “And it occurred to me that it could do with a coat of paint.”

“You are something else,” he muttered as he sipped his coffee.

“Why? Because I like to keep busy?”

“No. Because you refuse to even consider a decorating company,” he answered.

She _pffft_ ’d. “Waste of money,” she said. “I’ve never used them for domestic purposes, and never will.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward as Adira began to stir, having been kicked on the leg by her baby brother. “Stubborn,” he said.

She smiled.

*****

“Fuck sake Ray – that sounds terrible,” Amay said, scowling into her coffee.

Her deputy manager simply shrugged. “That’s what I heard,” he told her. “I’m not saying it’s true, but it’s what I was told.”

“You listen to gossip too much,” she said. “People make up things as they go along, and you buy into it.”

“Do not.”

“Yes, you do,” she insisted. “Babe…are you almost ready to go?”

Thranduil looked up, engrossed in a discussion with the rep from the liquor supplier who was trying to get them to change from their current supplier. “Two minutes, sweetheart,” he replied.

Ray sung the towel he held over his shoulder. “Where are my little princesses today?” he questioned. “And my little prince?”

“At home, with Vicky and Leggy,” she replied. “That’s why I’m hurrying Thranduil; I don’t want to leave them for too long.” She bounced her foot in time to a remix of Queen’s Flash as it pounded across the open floor. “I just hope he’s not agreeing to anything with that dude.”

“He’ll check out the costs first, Peach,” Ray said. “You know how he is with detail.”

She watched as the rep produced a slim file, handing it to her husband and holding his hand out to shake it. Thranduil returned the greeting, finally turning towards her.

“I thought you were going to be held there all day,” she quipped, rising off the bar stool to kiss him.

“Nope,” he grinned. “Not when I have a gorgeous, sexy wife waiting for me.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she laughed. “Keep talking.”

“How far will it get me?” he teased, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“As far as you can handle,” she whispered.

“Perverts,” Ray accused. “Peach, can you do me a favour? Would you drop my car into the shop on the way past? That’ll save me from disappearing and having to call a cab to get back.”

She tutted in disgust. “What did your last slave die of, exhaustion? Gimme the keys.”

“Thanks, Peach,” he gushed.

She grabbed the keys from him. “I’ll _peach_ you one of these days,” she warned. “Are you ok to drive the Honda back?” she asked Thranduil.

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll follow you to the garage, and you can ride with me once you drop his car off.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed. “Ok, NumbNuts, catch you later,” she said over her shoulder to Ray as she accompanied her husband towards the exit. “His car’s a piece of shit to drive,” she added in a low voice.

“Would you prefer me to drive it?” he asked.

“No. It’s a not really a bad car, I just don’t like being so close to the ground after being in a 4x4 for such a long time,” she told him. “I’ve got used to being higher up off the road in the CRV.”

They walked hand in hand over the parking lot, and she beeped the key to turn off the alarm on Ray’s BMW.

Thranduil pulled her flush against his body, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. “Mmm,” he murmered with a smile, pulling back. “I can never get enough of kissing you.”

She returned his smile. “Likewise,” she whispered, running her hand through his hair. “You don’t have a clue how damned gorgeous and sexy you are.”

He tipped his head back and laughed. “Like I have told you before – you see things I do not,” he said. He paused. “I assume you are ok now? No more thoughts on surgery?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said on a sigh. “No more thoughts. I suppose my insecure side really kicked in seeing Soph’s photos, and one thing led to another. Before I knew it, I’d got carried away and…well, you know the rest.”

“You are so gorgeous,” he said softly. “Maybe one day you’ll believe me.”

She laughed, and stood on her toes to kiss him again. “Ok, follow me to the garage. I want to get home to our babies.”

“After you, my Lady,” he smirked, opening the car door for her.

“Just keep your eyes on the road,” she teased, winking as he closed the door and she fastened her seat belt. He grinned in response and circled round to their own car, climbing in as she started the engine on the BMW. Easing out of the lot, she glanced both ways and pulled out, catching a glimpse in her mirror of Thranduil following her.

Traffic was heavy as she led the way through the city streets. Delivery vehicles, buses, coaches, motorbikes, and cars sped in all directions. She relaxed as she drove, cursing Ray’s choice of music as she tapped a button on the steering wheel to change tracks on the cd. Stores flew past as she accelerated, checking to make sure her husband stayed close. The Honda stayed behind her.

They passed the community college and headed east onto the part of town where the garage was located. Easing up on the gas, she dropped a gear and shook her head at the slow driver in front of her.

“Goddamned Grandma,” she muttered, bouncing her thumb on the wheel in time to the music. Shaking her head, she put her foot down again as the car turned off.

Another couple of miles went past.

Lifting her eyes from the road to the overhead lights, she eased through them. Thranduil braked and had to wait as they turned to red, before moving off again.

She grinned, knowing he would floor the car to reach her.

Another set of lights appeared further along. Again they were at green, so she continued through them.

Behind her, Thranduil glanced in his wing mirror as he followed. His gaze went back to the road just as the unthinkable happened.

A Toyota Land Cruiser shot through the red lights coming from the right, ploughing full-force into the passenger side of the BMW, sending it sideways into oncoming traffic. A deafening boom rocked through the streets as the car flipped over onto the roof, back onto the wheels and then over onto the roof again. It came to a rest on the driver’s side, the Toyota having spun off in another direction.

His heart stopped as he slammed on the brakes, the CRV skidding round in a one-eighty. Throwing the door open, he leapt out and sprinted towards the BMW, just as Amay’s ear-splitting screams reached his ears.


	7. The World Implodes

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

****

The planets seemed to collide.

Thranduil hurtled through wreckage strewn across the street, swerving around vehicles that had screeched to a halt to avoid the collision, his heart hammering. His lungs felt like they were bursting by the time he reached the BMW, his chest heaving as he panted hard for oxygen against the pounding of his panicked heartbeat.

“Amethyst!” he roared. “Amethyst!” He leapt up onto the exposed side of the car, twisting to lean his upper body inside.

Amay lay against the driver’s door, blood splattered over the side and front windows, and all over the dashboard. She was breathing rapid, shallow breaths, her face chalk white beneath the blood.

“Amethyst! Don’t move!” he shouted, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and dialling 911. “I need an ambulance!” he gasped into the phone. “I need an ambulance now! My wife has been in a car accident…”

“Stay on the line, Sir, we’re tracking your location through GPS right now,” the handler advised him. “Sir, is your wife conscious?”

He gulped. “Yes, there’s blood everywhere…oh my God…please help her,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

“We have your position on screen, Sir,” the voice in his ear assured him. “Please try to stay calm, help is on the way.”

Amay started to scream again, her body contorting in agony.

“Amethyst, don’t move, sweetheart,” Thranduil urged her. “I’m here with you, baby.”

“Do not attempt to move her, Sir,” the handler told him.

“I can’t,” he whispered, tears flooding down his cheeks. “I can’t reach her.”

“I can hear her in the vehicle, Sir – that’s a good sign. She’s alive and conscious. Try to stay calm and talk to her,” the voice said. “I will stay on the line with you until the medics arrive. The fire service will be arriving around the same time.”

A crowd had gathered around the smashed vehicles. Thranduil paid them no attention, focusing solely on Amay.

Within a few minutes, sirens could be heard in the distance, growing steadily louder as they approached. Ambulances and fire engines pulled up and emergency personnel swarmed all around, each person with a set task to carry out.

“Sir, my name’s Derek, and we’re going to get your wife out of the vehicle,” a fire officer said, appearing next to the car and touching his arm.

Thranduil stared at him blankly.

“I need you to come down from the vehicle, Sir,” he said. “What’s your wife’s name?”

“Amethyst,” he replied, in a daze as he slid from the wreckage back onto the ground. “Her name is Amethyst.”

“Good. Amethyst? Can you hear me, Amethyst?” Derek shouted into the car.

She cried out in pain.

He nodded. “We’ll have her out, try to remain calm,” he advised. “Guys! Air bags?”

A volley of replies drifted over, none of them meaning anything to Thranduil. He allowed Derek to gently steer him back, the firefighters working at speed. Using the inflatable airbags, they quickly set about righting the BMW, bringing it carefully back onto the four wheels once the medics had made sure it was safe to move the car with Amay trapped inside.

Thranduil surged forwards, dropping to his knees on the road beside the crumpled car. “Amethyst,” he whispered brokenly.

She turned her head slowly, her hand lifting in search of him. He reached in and grasped her, gripping her firmly.

“I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” he said.

“Sir, we have to move her,” Derek told him, settling a hand on his shoulder.

Around them, firefighters worked quickly, cutting through the metal frame to free the roof. Before long, the twisted section was lifted off and taken away to the side.

Police officers kept the onlookers back, allowing the team to work, including the medics who were dealing with the other two vehicles, but Thranduil didn’t notice. He reluctantly released Amay’s hand, his heart breaking at her howl of despair.

Stepping back, he watched through torrential tears as the driver’s door was torn free, and choked back a gasp as her injuries became visible. The collision with oncoming traffic had crumpled the front end of the BMW, trapping her legs in the twisted bodywork. Blood was pooled around what he could see of her lower legs, and continued to stream from a gash on her head.

His hands lifted to his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he attempted to hold himself together.

“She’s in good hands, Sir,” Derek said gently. “We’re going to prise the front of the vehicle from her so we can move her. You’re doing great, just stay with me, Sir.”

He nodded, too numb to reply.

Two medics had climbed into the wreckage; one in the passenger seat and one in the back, trying to calm Amay as the firefighters set to work with the Jaws of Life.

She freaked out.

“I can calm her,” Thranduil said. “She’ll settle for me.”

Derek eyed him thoughtfully for a few moments, before gesturing for the medic in the back to exit the car. “Ok. Sit behind her, talk to her, whatever you have to do,” he relented. “But if it becomes dangerous, I’ll have to get you back out.”

He nodded, swiftly sliding onto the back seat. He reached over her shoulders, gripping her hands in his and tucking his head against her neck. “Relax, baby,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

“Thranduil,” she cried. “I can’t feel my legs.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh my God, help me!”

“We’re gonna have you out in no time, ma’am,” Derek assure her, resting his arm on the shoulder of one of the firefighter’s backs. “Try to stay calm; your husband is with you.”

She nodded, waves of pain slicing through her upper body.

The metal screeched deafeningly as the jaws worked hard to free her.

She screamed and twisted.

“Stay with me baby, stay with me,” Thranduil urged, gripping her hands tighter.

Around them, chaos was unfolding outwith their own little world of terror and panic. Medics moved rapidly in all directions, tending to the other casualties. Amay vaguely registered a covered body being carried from the Land Cruiser, but wasn’t able to dwell on it.

She sobbed harder as the bodywork of the car slowly eased away from her, and feeling started coming back to her lower legs. Her fingers almost crushed Thranduil’s, her breathing coming in short, hard gasps. He whispered into her ear, trying to calm her and keep her settled.

“You’re doing great, ma’am,” Derek told her, glancing between her and the jaws, then back to her. “Absolutely great. We’re almost there…keep going…keep going...three…two…one…and we’re in! Ok guys, let’s move her!”

The firefighters moved back and the medics crowded the car, each one tending to their own task but working collectively in their mission to rescue their patient. Thranduil remained where he was, continuing to talk to her to try and soothe her and keep her as relaxed and calm as he could.

She screamed and screamed like she would never stop as the medics carefully eased her round, making sure not to jar her in case of spinal injuries. Derek laid a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, and his hands remained locked in Amay’s death-grip. After a lot of manoeuvring and slow, careful  movements, they finally had her in a position to free her from the seat.

“Time to let her go, Sir,” Derek said. “It’s time for us to take over.”

He closed his eyes, tears falling rapidly as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Please do whatever it takes,” he whispered, reluctantly releasing her hands.

She howled in distress immediately, and his heart twisted.

Derek placed a hand under his elbow and helped him from the back seat to stand on wobbly legs. “We’re going to airlift her to the trauma centre,” he told him. “She’ll have the best care, and there’s already an orthopaedic team on standby waiting for her.”

Thranduil turned, gazing at the helicopter which had landed and he hadn’t even been aware. “Can I go with her?” he asked, turning back to the medic.

He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry Sir, there isn’t enough room in the choppers,” he answered. “We need all the room we can get for the medic crew and the equipment.”

The look in Thranduil’s eyes was enough to melt a heart of stone.

“I’ll get one of the medics to drive you in the ambulance,” he said. “I don’t normally, but they’re headed over anyways, and you don’t look like you’re in a fit state to drive, Sir. Come with me; I’ll get you there.”

The shell-shocked blond stood where he was, his mind in meltdown as he tried to process everything that was going on around him. Dragging his hands through his hair with a heartfelt sob, he glanced back as his wife was carefully loaded onto a stretcher fitted with a rigid back board. Her eyes were closed, her breathing still laboured. The medics strapped her securely and fitted an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

Grief overwhelmed him as he watched them whisk her away.

He hadn’t even kissed her.

And he might never have the chance again.

Allowing Derek to push him gently towards one of the abandoned ambulances, he went into silent lockdown as he struggled to cope with what was developing. A medic jumped in and started the engine, flooring the vehicle and turning away from the scene of devastation.

A few moments later, the helicopter flew overhead and banked sharply to the left, heading for the trauma unit.

*****

Thranduil sat with his head between his knees, hyperventilating.

Around him, nurses, doctors, surgeons, and specialists hurried past. Patients ambled along, and relatives strolled casually through the hallways. Pagers beeped, phones rang. Metallic voices made announcements on the tannoy system. Computer keyboards clicked rhythmically as details were tapped into records. Blinding lights filled the corridors, a harsh glare in a blurred, disorientated world.

He lifted his head, gasping hard for oxygen.

Four hours had passed, and he’d heard nothing. No-one had come near him, and no-one had told him anything.

He didn’t know if Amay was alive or dead.

“Dad!”

He turned as Legolas crashed through the swing doors, hurrying towards him. He dropped to his knees in front of his father, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his head against his chest.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son, his body shaking as he started sobbing again. Legolas held tight, his own heart breaking at the horror of what had happened and his father’s distress.

“Have you heard anything?” he asked, as they parted a little.

He shook his head. “Not a word,” he whispered raggedly. “I don’t know anything.”

His son clenched his teeth. “Leave it to me,” he said determinedly, getting to his feet. He marched over to a nurse who was leaning idly against the counter of the nurses’ station, chatting to the receptionist. Thranduil heard him demand to know of his mother’s condition, and he smiled the faintest trace of a smile.

An argument ensued, but the younger Oropherion held fast and refused to budge until someone told him something. Eventually the nurse gave up with a sigh, disappearing through another set of doors.

“She’s gone to get an update,” Legolas said, approaching his father and sitting next to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner,” he added quietly. “I had to wait for Vicky to come and stay with the kids.”

Thranduil nodded, numb. “How are they?” he asked.

“They’re fine, don’t worry about them,” he replied. “Ray’s in a right fucking state; he’s blaming himself. He came to the house, and I was going to hunt him, but he was so distraught I let him in. He’s with Vicky just now.”

Thranduil clenched his teeth. “If I find this was his fault and he hadn’t maintained his car, I’ll tear his head off,” he growled.

Legolas shook his head. “I doubt it, dad. Ray’s nuts about Amay, he wouldn’t have asked her to drive the car if it was unsafe. He’d never let anything happen to her.”

“I’ll kill him,” the older man vowed. “I swear, I’ll kill him.”

“I seriously doubt you have anything to worry about on that aspect,” his son replied. “I called Bard as soon as you called me; he went to Gatwick and managed to get on a standby flight. He’ll be here in the morning. I’ll pick him up when he lands.”

Tears rolled down Thranduil’s cheeks. “I may not have a wife come the morning,” he whispered. “The babies may not have a mother.”

“Dad…dad, stop it,” Legolas urged. “You can’t think like that. You have to stay strong, send positive thought to Amay. She needs you right now dad, don’t lose it. Please…stay strong.”

Heartbroken ice blue eyes shifted to his son’s concerned ones. “I went through losing your mother when you were only an infant,” he said, still in a broken whisper. “I cannot go through that again…I just can’t.”

“You won’t have to,” Legolas said with confidence and determination. “Amay’s as strong as a bloody ox, dad. She’s been through a lot, and came out roaring and yelling at the other side. This isn’t going to be any different. Believe me.”

He didn’t reply.

The nurse reappeared through the double doors, looking harassed.

He leapt to his feet, followed by Legolas.

She held her hands up to placate them both, wary of having both Oropherion males turn on her. “Your wife is stable,” she said. “She has a compound fracture in her left leg, and various other injuries. I’m not sure of the extent as yet, but she’s definitely stable. The surgical team are working with her, and they’ll let you know as soon as they have anything to tell you.”

Legolas frowned. “What’s a compound fracture?”

“It’s where the bone snaps and protrudes through the skin,” she explained. “She has fractured ribs, but I’m not sure how many. Head trauma, and various different injuries from the impact of the crash. But she’s in the best hands, so try to relax for the time being.”

Thranduil sank back onto the seat as his strength ebbed from his body, mumbling a quiet thankyou to the nurse. She nodded stiffly and left.

“Well, that’s something,” Legolas murmered. He looked at his parent. “At least she’s not critical anymore. Hold on to that dad, things are improving slowly.”

He nodded, dazed and confused.

“Have you eaten?”

He shook his head.

“Right, I’m going to the vending machine,” his son decided.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care what you are or aren’t. I’m bringing you back something, and you’ll eat it,” he said. “Don’t argue with me. Amay doesn’t want to come through this to find her husband’s passed out from malnutrition, for Christ’s sake. Don’t move. I won’t be long.”

Sad eyes watched as his son hurried along the hallway, disappearing around the corner. Lowering his head, he breathed deeply, tears still trickling down his face.


	8. Agony And Anger

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

****

Dawn eventually arrived.

Legolas sat in the chair next to Thranduil, his head resting on his shoulder as he slept. People came and went, phones still rang, messages still peeped cheerfully.

Thranduil’s eyes were burning with fatigue, his head pounding having not had enough fluids through the night. He stretched his legs out, crossing one ankle over the other. His gaze wandered around, looking but not really seeing.

“Mr Oropherion?”

He jumped at the voice, spinning round in the seat and dislodging Legolas.

The surgeon who had seemingly materialised from nowhere sat down a few seats away. Exhaustion showed in the man’s face and how he held himself. “Amethyst has been transferred to Recovery,” he said.

Thranduil bounded up out of the seat.

“Wait a few moments, Mr Oropherion,” the surgeon said, holding a hand up. “Her injuries are pretty extensive, and you need to prepare yourself.”

“But she’s alive,” he whispered.

The doctor nodded with a slight smile. “Yes. She’s alive. She’s a fighter…we were close to losing her a few times, I won’t lie about that, but she pulled through on her own.”

Thranduil covered his face with his hands, sinking back onto the chair. Legolas, who had been abruptly woken by his father’s sudden movements, slid an arm across his shoulders.

“She suffered a blow to her forehead, which at the moment, isn’t giving us cause for concern,” the doctor said. “She had glass embedded in her skin from the car windows shattering, but they’ve been removed. Various lacerations, a lot of bleeding, but we’ve taken care of that. She has four fractured ribs; three on the left side, one on the right. And her left leg has a compound fracture.” He paused. “It will be a lengthy recovery, Mr Oropherion. A long, slow road back to the way she was before the accident.”

Thranduil sniffed as he lowered his shaking hands. “She is alive, that’s all that matters,” he said softly. “We can deal with everything else as it happens, take each day as it comes.”

The doctor nodded. “Your wife is still sleepy from the anaesthesia, but she did regain consciousness briefly.” He paused. “She asked for you.”

Thranduil tipped his head back, fighting tears as he absorbed what he was hearing. Throughout everything that she’d gone through, the trauma to her broken body and the stress of being moved and operated on – the first thing she’d asked for was him.

Legolas tightened his arm around him. “Told ya, dad,” he grinned.

He nodded, wiping his hands across his face. “When can I see her?” he asked.

The surgeon rose to his feet. “Give me a few minutes to clean up, and I’ll take you to her,” he replied, nodding as he went back through the doors to the OR.

He sagged back against the backrest of the chair, his body trembling.

“Almost there, old man,” Legolas said softly. “Just hang in there a bit longer.”

He inhaled a massive breath. “Thanks for staying with me, son,” he said.

“Somebody had to make sure you didn’t punch out the doctors,” he joked, earning a faint smile for his effort. “You know I wouldn’t leave you.”

He nodded. “I know,” he whispered.

The pair fell silent again, and true to his word, the surgeon soon re-emerged and took them up to the Recovery unit.

“I’ll wait outside, dad,” Legolas said quietly as they neared the room where Amay was. “Just take your time; spend as long as you need with her.”

He nodded, trying to keep from tearing past the doctor and barging in through the doorway as they approached.

Entering the room alone, he let the door swing closed with a soft click as he stood, his eyes on the bed and the patient occupying it.

Amay looked pale, broken, and frail; the sheet and blanket draped over her. Machines around her beeped quietly, monitoring her blood pressure, her respirations, her pulse, and her oxygen saturation. Another machine fed morphine through an IV in her hand. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed normally.

He slowly stepped towards the bed, shakily taking her hand gently in his.

Her eyes opened instantly. “Thranduil?” she whispered.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as his tears started to flow.

She swallowed, weakly squeezing his fingers.

He carefully lowered his weight to sit on the edge of the bed, clasping both hands around the one he held. “You scared me,” he whispered.

Dazed eyes held his. “I scared myself,” she replied. Her voice was husky, having screamed herself hoarse and from lack of fluids. “How are the babies?”

He nodded. “They’re alright,” he said softly. “Vicky has them.”

They simply gazed at one another for a few moments, before his shoulders shook and he let out a sob.

“Come here,” she whispered, lifting one arm.

He leaned down, wrapping an arm around her hip as she slid her arm up around his shoulders, holding him as close as she could.

He inhaled shuddery breaths, absorbing her scent, swallowing hard to try and collect his wits. The last twelve hours had been hell for both of them, and he found he could no longer bear the weight of everything.

“I’m sorry, my darling,” he whispered, turning his face into her neck and kissing her soft skin. “I’m supposed to be the strong one…but I cannot find any strength right now.”

She caressed his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright,” she told him. “You’ve suffered. You’re human. I’m going to be alright. _We’re_ going to be alright.”

He nodded against her, still crying.

The minutes ticked past.

“Sir, I understand what you’re going through, but I have to ask you to give your wife a little room,” a nurse said eventually, having seen the heart-rending scene between them both. “She needs to breathe.”

He reluctantly pulled back, gazing down at Amay for a few seconds, then brushed his mouth over hers in a soft whisper of a kiss. “I love you so much,” he said, for her ears only.

She managed a faint smile. “I love you too,” she told him.

“How are you feeling, Amay?” the nurse asked, checking the monitoring equipment.

“Like I’ve been in a car crash,” she replied drolly.

The nurse smiled. “Haven’t lost your sense of humour – that’s a good sign,” she observed. She glanced at Thranduil, who was still entangled in his wife’s hold, but had at least shifted back a little. “The specialist wants to speak with you later on this morning, Mr O,” she told him. “You’ll need to be aware of the care that Amay’s going to need when she goes home.”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s fine,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll have to go and see the kids,” Amay reminded him.

“They’re fine,” he assured her. “Bard is on his way.”

“Aw, bless him,” she said, closing her eyes briefly. “I feel like shit, causing so much hassle.”

“Do not,” he warned her. “Just do _not._ ”

“You haven’t caused any trouble, honey,” the nurse said, fiddling with dials. “From what the responding medics told me, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What hit me? A Harrier jump jet?”

She laughed. “No. A Land Cruiser.”

“The driver?” she asked.

Thranduil shook his head slightly, amazed that even in her state, she still thought outside the box.

“Dead on the scene,” the nurse replied. “He was drunk. Don’t beat yourself up. It’s because of folks like that, that so many innocent lives are lost every day. Lives in here, and all over.”

Amay turned her eyes to Thranduil’s, with a look of sadness. He flexed his fingers through hers.

“I wanna go home,” she said softly.

“One step at a time, sweetie,” the nurse said on a sigh. “Learn to walk before you can run.” With that, she retreated back to give them some time alone.

Thranduil’s gaze never left hers. He lifted one hand and trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I thought I had lost you,” he said, his words heavy with pain.

She gave the slightest shake of her head. “No way. The girls and Fin would have you in a nut-house before their next birthdays if I left you alone to raise them,” she said. Her gaze sharpened momentarily. “I’d never leave you, baby. Never.”

He nodded, and she could see the battle he was fighting within himself.

“You’ve told me that you would never leave me,” she said. “Right here in this very hospital, remember?”

He nodded again.

“That goes double for me,” she whispered. “I’ll never _ever_ leave you. Although…you might have second thoughts soon enough.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She lifted her eyes back to his, and he could see her fear in the deep blue depths. “What gorgeous, attractive guy wants to spend the rest of his life with a cripple?”

His nostrils flared. “No, Amethyst, do _not_ even give that thought room in your mind,” he said angrily. “I have been through unspeakable hell through the night; I don’t care if you’re confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your life…I’ll _never_ leave you, do you understand? I love you, and I always will love you.”

She gazed at him, picking up the angry fear in his voice, the stress and the worry that he’d been through as she’d fought for her life. Before she could say anything, he swooped down and crushed his mouth against hers, holding the contact for as long as he could.

“You’re everything to me, my angel,” he said softly. “I’ll never be anywhere else other than at your side.”

A solitary tear trickled down her cheek as she closed her eyes, and he leaned his forehead against hers.

*****

Thranduil dumped the keys to the Honda on the kitchen worktop, rolling his shoulders in exhaustion. Legolas had picked the CRV up on the way to be with him, and he’d left his son with Amay while he went home for a shower and to see the children.

He turned as Ray wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey, boss. How’s-“

His words were cut short as a six feet five mountain of fury gripped him by the front of his t-shirt, throwing him hard against the wall.

“What the _fuck_ was wrong with that car?” Thranduil roared in his face. “Why did it have to go to the garage?”

“A busted tail light!” Ray screeched, terrified of the immensely furious being who towered over him, still gripping his clothing. “It was a tail light, that’s all!”

He pulled him away from the wall and slammed him hard against it again, unable to contain his anger. “You’d better fucking hope that was all,” he thundered. “Because if I find out that Amethyst almost died because of your negligence, I’ll tear your fucking head off!”

“I swear boss, there wasn’t anything else wrong with it!” Ray pleaded, his face white with fear.

“You’d better not be fucking lying to me!” Thranduil’s roars of anger echoed around the house, causing Vicky to hurtle into the kitchen with Adira on her hip.

“Thranduil! Thranduil! It wasn’t Ray’s fault!” she yelled, trying to prise him off her colleague. “It had a broken light, and he’d booked it in to get fixed!”

The angry blond glared at his employee for several long, agonising seconds, before finally releasing him, and turning away. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to collect himself.

“Amethyst is recovering,” he said quietly after some time.

Both employees stood in silence behind him, terrified to move.

“She has fractured ribs, her leg’s been smashed, she’s covered in cuts and bruises…but she’s alive,” he said. “And that is the main thing. She is alive.”

Vicky stepped forwards, touching his arm gently. “Someone’s been missing her daddy,” she said softly.

He turned, his gaze going to his daughter, who held her arms out for him. Closing his eyes, he swept her into his arms, burying his face in her soft curls.

Vicky turned away, pulling Ray out of the room and giving him space.

He sank to his knees, clutching Adira.

“Daddy!” Amaris shouted, her little feet charging down the hallway towards the kitchen. “Daddy! Daddy!”

He lifted his head, holding one arm out as his oldest daughter launched herself against him in a blur of arms and legs. “My baby girls,” he whispered, hugging them both close.

“Been through the wars a bit, haven’t you, man?” a deeper voice said, making him look up.

Bard stood in the doorway with Fin cradled in one arm.

“Bard,” he whispered, releasing the girls and slowly getting to his feet. He stepped towards him, and the other man threw an arm around his shoulders in a crushing hold.

“Let it out, man…let it out,” he advised, as the taller man broke down. “Let it go.”

Thranduil trembled violently as his emotions overtook everything around him, and he had no choice but to go with the flow. His life-long friend held on to him, staying quiet until the storm passed.

“When did you arrive?” Thranduil asked eventually, pulling back and wiping his face with both hands. Fin wriggled to get to him, and Bard passed him over.

“Less than an hour ago,” he replied, turning to prepare coffee. “I just jumped in a cab and came straight here, and Vicky told me you were on the way home, so I stayed.”

“Thankyou for coming,” his friend said. “It’s…it’s been hell these last twenty-odd hours.”

Bard nodded. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I dropped everything and went straight to Gatwick. I was lucky somebody hadn’t turned up for their flight, so I managed to get their seat.” He looked over his shoulder. “You look like hell, Thrand.”

His business partner didn’t respond straight away. “The police spoke to me this morning,” he said finally. He took a deep breath. “The seat-belt didn’t lock when the collision happened. And the airbag didn’t inflate.” Tired eyes turned to his friend. “To all intents and purposes, Amethyst should be dead.”

“But she isn’t,” Bard replied, stirring the coffee and setting a mug down in front of him. “And she’s not going to be. Clear your head of those thoughts, the what-ifs and the might-have-beens. They’re no use to you.”

“I know. I just can’t help but think.”

“Don’t. Thinking’s never done anyone any good,” he quipped. His face turned serious. “Does Ray know about the car’s faults?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think he was aware. The police said it’s the kind of thing you need to take through a crash before you find out it’s malfunctioning. I just wanted to make sure there was nothing else, maybe something he hadn’t mentioned that might have affected the vehicle’s performance.”

Bard leaned against the counter, folding his arm across his abdomen and holding his own mug in his other hand. “From what Legolas told me when he called, the blame lies at the door of the driver.”

“The dead driver,” Thranduil corrected. “And by God, he’s lucky. The bastard got off easy.”

Bard whistled. “Harsh, man. Understandable, but harsh nevertheless,” he said with a wince.

His friend glared at him over the top of his son’s head.

“Is Amay up to having visitors?” he asked, swiftly changing the subject. “I was thinking to grab a shower and get changed, and pop over to see her.”

“Yes, she should be alright for visitors,” Thranduil replied. “I need to shower myself, and spend some time with the kids before I go back. I don’t know how long I can be with her though.”

His friend snorted. “Listen, man. I’m here, so I’ll drive us both over, and leave you there. I’m more than happy to stay with the guys watching the kids. That’s what I came for, to help out any way you needed.”

“Thankyou,” he whispered, feeling his eyes start to tear up again. “Goddammit…” he muttered, turning away in disgust.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He turned back.

“We’ve been through some heavy shit over the years, and we’ve always been there for one another,” he said, his Welsh accent coming through more prominent as he strove to make his point. “And that’s not going to change just because you’ve moved to the other side of the planet. You hear?”

Thranduil nodded.

“Good. I’m taking my coffee into the shower, and bollocks to getting bubbles in it. Give me a shout whenever you’re ready to go back to the hospital,” Bard said. “And I’m driving. You drive like a greyhound on acid.”

He smirked slightly at his friend’s comment, watching him as he left the kitchen. Turning back to Fin, he found the youngster gazing up at him with loving, trusting blue eyes. He pressed a kiss to his fluffy hair, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.


	9. Patience And Baby Steps

** CHAPTER NINE **

****

Two weeks later.

Bard stood in the doorway, gazing at his two friends.

Amay lay on her back, sound asleep. Thranduil lay on his side, curled up against her, on top of the covers, one arm protectively over her stomach. He too was fast asleep.

He smiled. They both needed the rest, and the quiet time together.

Amay had slowly made progress since coming home from the hospital, although as expected, not fast enough for her liking. She was cranky and irritable, and often burst into tears. Thranduil hadn’t left her side, and had waited on her hand and foot, which she felt bad about but knew she had no other option.

He knew she felt like she was a burden to everyone around her, but he also knew that his friend would move heaven and earth to make sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed, with or without her consent. In his eyes, the sun rose and set with her, and nothing would ever be too much trouble where she was concerned.

Amay however, had other ideas.

In the fortnight since the accident, she’d tried to get out of bed unaided several times, tried to get down the stairs, and had made more than a few attempts at bathing herself. Much to Thranduil’s annoyance.

Bard smiled as he turned away. The friendly bickering between the pair was comical to watch, until Amay’s emotions got the better of her and she ended up in tears, which had happened quite a few times.

He carried his coffee down the curved stairway, still with a smile on his face.

His head turned as he heard voices at the door, and padded over in his bare feet.

“Good morning, Mr Bowman,” the cheery voice said with a happy smile, as the owner stepped past Vicky. “How are you?”

He returned the private nurse’s smile. “I’m good,” he replied. “And yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” she said, kicking her sneakers off beside the door. “How is our lovely lady today?”

“She’s asleep,” he answered. “They both are. Can I get you a coffee..?”

She smiled. “I’d love one. And hopefully that’ll allow Amay to wake up by herself, rather than me going in and waking her.”

“Hi, Sharon,” Legolas greeted her, heading from the living room with one twin on each hip.

“Hi Legolas, hi babies!” she replied, taking the outstretched hand that Amaris offered on the way past. “You gorgeous girls ok?”

“Mama sweep,” Amaris replied, pouting.

“Mama sleep?” Sharon asked. “Aww honey, mama’s tired and needs her rest.”

“Dadda sweep,” Adira supplied helpfully.

“Well sweetheart, dada looks after mama and needs to rest too,” she told her.

A slight frown creased the youngster’s forehead as she contemplated the nurse’s words. “Dadda wazy,” she decided.

Sharon lifted her eyes to Legolas, who was trying not to laugh.

“Dad’s lazy,” he translated, and Bard chuckled as he prepared coffee.

“He’s worn out,” he said. “I heard him walking the floor with Fin through the night. And I heard him up with Amay too; she was upset.”

Sharon frowned, taking the cup he passed her. “Why?”

He shrugged.

“Amay wants things to happen yesterday,” Vicky piped up. “She’s the most impatient person I’ve ever met in my life.”

Sharon nodded in understanding. “She’s frustrated at not being able to do anything by herself,” she murmered. “How’s Thranduil? Is he holding up?”

“He’s burning the candle at both ends,” Bard replied with a sigh. “We’re doing everything we can, but he’s trying to manage the three children and Amay, and still run two businesses. I told him to forget about work, but you know what he’s like.”

She nodded again. “It’s difficult,” she agreed.

Legolas moved over to the table and set the two girls down, where they promptly charged back to her and crashed against her legs, demanding hugs.

“He’ll have to let go of something sooner or later,” Bard said.

“And I know what it’ll be,” Legolas replied. “He’ll back off from work and concentrate solely on Amay and the kids.”

Sharon lifted both girls, making faces at them. “Amay needs him, so do the children,” she told the adults. “Work will have to take a back seat for a few months, maybe longer. It depends on how fast she heals.”

Legolas snorted, and Bard grinned.

“Like I said, impatient as hell,” Vicky drawled.

The nurse shrugged. “That’s understandable, and perfectly normal,” she observed. “Unfortunately for Amay, she’s going to have to do only as much as her body allows. Which at this stage, isn’t gonna be much.”

Bard set his coffee down, reaching for the girls so she could drink hers. “Come here, you little imps,” he said affectionately, taking the wriggling, giggling bundles. “Oh you two are going to be so much trouble as you get older…” He wandered away through to the living room with them, his voice fading as he left.

Sharon’s gaze followed him, before coming back to Legolas. “So Amay’s emotionally strung out?” she said.

He nodded. “I would say so,” he agreed. His head turned as he heard footsteps, to see his father descending the stairs. “Hey, dad.”

“Morning, son,” Thranduil yawned, running a hand through his hair. “Morning, Vicky, Sharon.”

A stereo round of _good morning_ answered him.

“How’s things?” Sharon asked.

He inhaled deeply. “We’re doing alright,” he said. “Amay is struggling a little, but we all know how determined she is to do things independently. It’ll take time.”

“Of course it will, she’s expecting miracles,” the nurse replied.

“More like demanding miracles,” Vicky laughed. She crossed the kitchen and gave Legolas a quick kiss. “I’ll see you this afternoon, honey. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, watching her as she left the kitchen and made her way towards the door.

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow and smiled, saying nothing.

“Is she awake?” Sharon asked, drinking her coffee.

“Yes…although only just,” he replied. “I’m going to take her a coffee and hopefully she’ll be more human by the time you get to her. She isn’t in the best of moods this morning, I’m afraid.”

“Bad night?”

“Restless night,” he admitted. “Still…each night is one night forward.” He turned and prepared two coffees, his shoulders heavy.

The nurse and Legolas exchanged glances, both wondering how long it would take before he relinquished some of his responsibilities.

*****

“It’s driving me crazy,” Amay moaned, shuffling into a more comfortable position. “And I swear I’m getting bloody bed sores.”

Sharon laughed, pinging the syringe to clear any air bubbles. “You are _not_ getting bed sores,” she said. “I know for a fact that Thranduil is encouraging you to turn regularly, and I also know that you’re getting out of bed at every opportunity, the second he turns his back. I know you, lady, and I know how you think.”

She huffed softly.

“I know it’s hard,” the nurse said softly, resting the syringe on her knee as she gazed sympathetically at her patient. “I know how active you normally are. But you need to give this time to heal; your leg had a pretty bad break honey…both bones snapped, remember? That’s not going to heal overnight.”

“I know,” she grunted. “But I feel useless. And Thranduil’s doing too much Sharon…I’m worried he’s running himself into the ground, and I don’t want that.”

“He’ll have to back away from his work sooner or later,” she said. “Now give me your arm and stay still.”

Amay reluctantly held her arm out, having been counting down the minutes until she could have her painkilling injection. “I never knew a broken leg could cause so much pain.”

“It’s not just the leg honey; remember four ribs have been fractured as well,” Sharon said. She depressed the plunger slowly, releasing a lower dose of morphine than she had been administering previously. “You’re not a robot, you’re human. And us humans take time to mend and recover. Get used to it.”

Deep blue eyes glared at her, but there was no response.

“Bend your arm,” the nurse instructed, placing a cotton wool ball onto the injection site and depositing the used needle into a sharps box on the floor at her feet. “I have to say, you’ve got so much support and help here, Amay. A lot more than some of my patients.”

She nodded. “I know. I don’t know what I’d do without everybody,” she said. “I just miss running around with the kids, riding the horses, jumping around the club…I’m a mess.” She ended on a soft laugh.

“A mess that will heal, given time and patience,” Sharon told her. “I’ve booked you in for an x-ray at the end of next week, and we’ll see how the bones are fusing together. All being well, you might end up with a slightly lighter plaster cast, instead of this bulky thing.”

Amay glanced down at the thigh-high cast on her left leg. “I think the kids want to keep this,” she said.

Each person in the household had scribbled their name or made a distinguishing mark or symbol of some sort on it, and it resembled a graffiti display. Thranduil’s flowing script, being the largest inscription, ran down the inside of her thigh, accompanied by hearts and kisses.

“I don’t see why that should be a problem,” Sharon replied. “A lot of people keep their casts, both as a reminder of what crazy thing they did to acquire it, and as a memento of people who wrote on it. I see a lot of that.”

Amay yawned. “Why do I feel so tired all the time?” she murmered, closing her eyes.

“That’s your body’s way of healing,” she answered, as she counted her pulse rate. “And the medication is reasonably strong.”

“I just want to sleep all the time.”

“So sleep, and stop trying to climb out of bed sixty eight times a day,” Sharon retorted with a laugh. “I hear about everything.”

“I bet you do,” she muttered. “How are things with Bard?”

Sharon blushed. “I am sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grinned.

“Yeah, right.”

“He’s a really nice guy,” she said. “And daaaaamned good-looking too!”

Amay smiled. “He’s a great guy,” she said. “He’s been an absolute rock for Thranduil, more than once.”

“Have they known each other long?” Sharon asked curiously.

She nodded, yawning again. “Since before university,” she replied. She narrowed her eyes at her nurse. “D’you want me to put in a good word for you?”

“No!” she responded instantly, her cheeks burning.

Amay laughed. The petite blond was quite cute, and she knew Bard liked her in his own way. “We’ll see what fate has in store,” she said, settling back comfortably against the soft pillows. “Fate might have anything and everything up her sleeve.”

Sharon dropped her blood pressure monitor into her bag, zipping it closed. “I’m not getting my hopes up,” she said. “I don’t have a good history with relationships.”

“Neither did I, and look what happened to me,” she replied. “Thranduil came into my life and completely turned it upside down.”

“In a good way, I hope,” his deep voice said, and she turned her head to find her insides melt at his smile as he stood in the doorway.

“Definitely,” she told him, holding her hand out.

He stepped over to her, taking her hand and twisting his fingers through hers. “Feeling a little better?” he asked, leaning over and brushing his mouth over hers. His long hair swept over her as he bent down.

“Mmm,” she smiled. “Sleepy.”

“How’s the pain levels?” he asked, lifting hair away from her face. “She’s been in a _lot_ of pain,” he added over his shoulder to Sharon.

“I’ve just given her a shot, so she should sleep for a few hours,” the nurse told him. “The pain will subside, given time. She needs to keep in mind it’s a serious collision she was involved in, and she was lucky to survive.”

Thranduil’s eyes changed, and he gazed back at his wife, who watched him steadily.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she reminded him softly. Her fingers tightened around his.

He nodded. “I know.” He sighed. “When can she start walking again?” he directed over his shoulder.

“She has the crutches, so whenever she feels strong enough,” Sharon answered. “But baby steps, and not too many at a time. You do _not_ want to undo any progress, believe me. And not alone, either. The last thing she needs is to lose her balance and fall.”

Amay rolled her eyes.

“She will not be alone, that is for certain,” he said. “Even when she is well, I cannot turn my back for more than a few minutes, without she is up to some mischief. She is a monkey.”

“ _She_ is right here, _she_ can hear you, and _she_ does not resemble a goddamned primate,” she retorted, fixing her tired gaze on her husband.

He smiled down at her. “Maybe so, my love, but we all know what a menace you are when you put your mind to it,” he said. “Heaven knows what kind of nonsense you would get yourself wound up in if I wasn’t here.”

She snorted, closing her eyes again.

“Well, all seems to be going according to plan here,” Sharon said, packing her notes into the side pocket of her bag. “I’m going to leave you guys to it. She’ll nod off probably in about half an hour or so; the morphine’s been reduced a little, so it may take a little longer to work than you’re both used to. And it won’t be long before you don’t need it at all.” She smiled.

“Thanks, Sharon,” Amay murmered. “See you tomorrow?”

“You bet,” the nurse replied with a grin. “Call me before then if you need me,” she added to Thranduil as she headed for the bedroom door.

“Thankyou,” he said, and turned back to his wife as the door closed. He studied her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I have a hell of an itch under the cast though,” she laughed softly. “It’s driving me up the fucking wall.”

He grinned. “That’ll be your skin healing,” he responded. “But I don’t need to tell you that.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned closer. “I need to tell you how gorgeous you are, and how much I love you.”

She smiled as he pressed a kiss to the knuckles of the hand he still held. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispered. “Seriously. Ever since you came into my life, everything’s changed.”

He tilted his head to one side, studying her. “I just want more than anything in the world to take care of you, and for you to be happy,” he said after a few moments.

Her smile widened and she closed her eyes, starting to feel the effects of the opiate she’d been injected with. “I love you,” she murmered.


	10. Family Life

** CHAPTER TEN **

****

Thranduil tipped his head back and roared with laughter, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “Absolutely _no way_ did we get away with that,” he said, tossing an empty cookie wrapper at Bard.

His friend frantically batted it away as though it was a possessed demon. “I did three weeks’ bloody detention because of you and your shenanigans!” he retorted. “While you got off with an extra assignment! You big, blond, goofy sod.”

Legolas howled, tears of merriment running down his face. “Oh wow, now I know who I take my sense of humour from,” he laughed. “All your fault, dad!”

His father snorted as he stood up, crossing over to the window to close it a little. “Do not point the finger of blame at me over that deranged, damaged, and irresponsible twist in your character,” he said over his shoulder. “I take zero to do with that; that is all your own doing.”

Bard chuckled. “I remember when you were his age,” he reminded him. “The devil would have yanked his horns out in frustration at your antics.”

Thranduil grinned, his eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. “I’m just going to check on Amethyst, see if she’s awake yet or still asleep,” he said. His sixth sense was tapping insistently on his shoulder, telling him he was needed.

“So what did the professor say about it all?” Legolas questioned, turning his attention to their guest.

The conversation faded as Thranduil ascended the stairs, a nagging feeling in his gut. Padding across the thick carpet of the upstairs hallway, he heard soft crying before he reached the room he shared with his wife.

He opened the door, and hesitated briefly.

Amay was sitting on the bed, her back to him, clutching a bedsheet, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

“Amethyst?” he questioned softly, entering the room and closing the door. “What’s wrong, my love?”

She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder. “Do me a favour,” she said. “Just leave me alone just now.”

He stopped, feeling hurt slice through him at her words.

“I mean it. Go away. Please,” she said, turning away again.

“No.” He approached the bed.

“I’m serious,” she shot back, anger in her tone. “Leave me the fuck alone for five minutes.”

His nostrils flared as he clenched his teeth, biting back the hurt. “I am not leaving you when you’re clearly upset,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

“Everything,” she ground out. “I just need time alone, that’s all.”

He rounded the bed and placed himself in front of her, lowering himself to squat on his heels. “I don’t believe you,” he said softly.

She turned bloodshot eyes away from him, refusing to answer.

Tipping her head back gently, he gazed into her eyes. “Talk to me, my darling,” he whispered.

More tears rolled down her cheeks. “I woke up with my period,” she said quietly.

“Ok,” he said. “Do you need help to get washed and changed?”

“No,” she said, almost in anger. “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

She sniffed hard, looking up at the ceiling above her. “There’s blood on the sheets,” she whispered brokenly. “And I can’t manage to put clean ones on by myself.”

“Oh my darling,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t worry about these things. I thought there was something wrong with _you!_ I’ll change the sheet.”

“No,” she snapped, pushing against his chest. “I’ll figure it out.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why won’t you accept my help?” he asked.

She sniffed again. “Because it’s personal,” she said quietly.

His eyebrows rose. “Amethyst, I stayed at your side while you birthed three children,” he said, confused. “I’ve seen every part of you, kissed every part, licked every part. Why is a bedsheet such an issue?”

“Because it’s my dignity, Thranduil!” she cried, breaking down again. “You don’t understand. You just don’t.”

Inhaling deeply, he pulled her back against his chest once more, tightening his arms around her and rocking her gently. “I am your husband,” he said softly, rubbing her back. “For better and for worse, remember? Through sickness and in health? In good times and bad times?”

“We never said that in our vows,” she whispered brokenly, absorbing the heat from his solid body.

“We did not have to,” he replied. “Our commitment remains the same, whether we said those exact words or not.”

“I don’t like to have to ask people for things, especially not things like this,” she said against his shoulder. “It’s so degrading.”

“Amethyst, I am not _people,_ I am your _soul mate,_ ” he said. “We do things for each other, we are part of each other. Dignity does not come into it, my darling.”

“You think I’m overreacting,” she said, still snuggled against him.

“No, I do not,” he replied. “I think you are so used to being independent, and having to cope on your own, that even after the amount of time we’ve been together, you still feel like a burden when you have to ask me for something.” He pushed her back gently, gazing into her eyes. “Am I wrong?”

She hesitated, before shaking her head slightly. “No,” she whispered. “You’re not wrong.”

“Do you remember after I came home from hospital after the surgeons took my kidney away?” he said. “And you were adamant that you were going to give me a bed-bath?”

“You’d had serious surgery,” she replied.

“And so have you,” he told her. “You tried with everything you had to give me that damned bed-bath, and I didn’t need it. But if I _had,_ I would have let you do it. You need to let me do things for you. Even though it’s pissing you off…we share everything, my darling. Not just a bed and body fluids. _Everything._ ”

She blinked, sending a fresh cascade of tears down her face. Her breathing shuddered as a soft, warm mouth gently kissed them away.

“I can understand how you must be feeling,” he said quietly, his mouth still against her skin. “But you cannot shoulder the entire world by yourself, my darling. You just can’t. It’s far too heavy.”

She turned her face into his neck. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled against him.

“What for? Being human?”

“Being an arse. And making a mess,” she whispered.

“Amethyst, I’m just _so_ glad you’re alive to make a mess and be an arse,” he told her. “I’d much rather that than the alternative.”

“At least you wouldn’t have to put up with this crap,” she said, in a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

He gently moved her away slightly, frowning as he stared into her eyes. “That is not funny,” he said. “And you know it.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m just so… _fucked up_ right now.”

Ice blue eyes radiated love and understanding. “Come on, let me help you sit in the chair,” he decided, rising to his feet and handing her one of the crutches that stood propped up beside the bed. He stood on her other side and supported her as she stood up, and carefully walked her towards the window.

She settled into the overstuffed chair, leaning her head back against the upholstery, her weary gaze following him as he swiftly spread the clean sheet over the bed and tucked it in, quickly putting the pillows and the quilt back in place.

Hands on his hips, he towered before her. “How long and how much effort did that take?” he asked. “Hardly anything.”

She stayed quiet.

He sank to his knees on the carpet with a sigh, taking both her hands in his. “I seem to spend my whole life saying the same things over and over and over,” he said. “But you do not listen.”

“I do,” she said. “But babe…it’s really hard for me.” Her eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him to try to get inside her mind and fix it for her. “All my life I’ve had to depend on myself, because there was no-one else. And it’s a really hard habit to break.”

“I know that,” he said. “But baby, I am _here,_ and I am always going to be here…nothing will ever change that. Nothing will come between us. Honestly, I am going to get that tattooed to my forehead to save me from saying it a thousand times a day. And on yours,” he added at her scowl. “So you can look in the mirror and see it if I’m somewhere else.” Humour shone from his eyes.

“I don’t like you,” she muttered grumpily, and he laughed.

“Yes you do,” he responded, tugging her forwards. “You love me unconditionally.”

“I do,” she murmered, gazing at his mouth. “I’m sorry I’m an arse.”

“You’re not an arse, but you do have a great one,” he corrected. “One which I shall never tire of squeezing and touching and biting…”

She hummed in pleasure as his lips touched hers in a sweet kiss before he pulled back to look at her.

“Talk to me. Ask me to do things. Depend on me. _Demand_ things of me,” he instructed her. “Now I have a suggestion, which I want you to consider.”

She waited.

“Wash your face with cold water, because your eyes are puffy from where you’ve been crying,” he said. “Then I’ll take you downstairs, and we can spend some time with Legolas, Bard, and the children. I’ll make you a coffee, get you something to eat, and take some painkillers.”

She nodded. “I can do that,” she said.

“Good,” he replied, and kissed her mouth once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, almost reluctant to break the contact with him.

He helped her through to the bathroom, waiting patiently while she washed her face and handing her the towel. Taking her slowly down the stairs, he led her through to the living room, where his son and his friend were still hashing over old university days.

“Hey, good to see you, Amay,” Bard greeted her with a grin. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replied, carefully lowering herself onto the couch across from him. “I’ll be glad when this is all over and done with.”

“I’ll make you a coffee,” Legolas offered, getting up.

“Thankyou, son,” Thranduil said, and sat down beside his wife, crossing one long leg over the other. “Is Fin still asleep?”

“Yep,” he called through from the kitchen. “The twins are playing through in the playroom, making one hell of a mess in there.”

Amay smiled. “That’s healthy,” she murmered.

Thranduil slid an arm around her shoulders, playing idly with her hair as she relaxed. “Legolas, turn the oven on, please,” he called over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Are you cooking?” his son asked, sticking his head back round the doorway with an expectant grin.

“No, I thought I would participate in some acrobatic practice and do some somersaults around the kitchen,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, you ridiculous being. Why else would I want the oven turned on?!”

Bard snorted into his cup, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Oh Thrand, your sense of humour does not change,” he observed.

The blond grunted. “I have heard some ridiculous questions in my time, but that has to top even the best of them.”

Amay grinned, glancing at her husband, who merely shook his head. “Amaris! Adira!” she called, and thundering footsteps replied as both girls hurtled towards their mother’s voice.

“Mamaaa!” Adira yelled, bouncing up onto her knee, followed quickly by Amaris.

“Mama ‘wake,” the older of the two announced, climbing around Amay’s shoulders onto her back. “Ooo…Dadda…Dadda mine,” she decided, abandoning her mother and sliding onto her father instead.

Adira stayed where she was, winding her tiny hands into Amay’s hair and studying her closely.

“What is it, my little Princess?” she asked, curious as to the deep concentration in her daughter’s eyes.

“Mama sad?” the little one questioned. She released one hand and her little fingers carefully traced under Amay’s eyes, which were still slightly swollen.

She glanced at Thranduil. “Mama’s happy,” she told her, kissing her plump cheek. “Mama’s happy because her baby girls are awake and making a mess!”

Beside her, Thranduil _ooof_ ed as Amaris climbed up onto his shoulders, rocking back and forth as though he was a horse. “Be careful, sweetheart,” he advised.

“Dadda horsey!” she yelled, yanking handfuls of his hair.

Bard doubled over with laughter, tears of amusement in his eyes. “That’s what you two get for having such bloody _ridiculously_ long hair!” he howled.

His friend winced as his child pulled unnecessarily hard. “Ok, angel, that’s enough,” he said, lifting her down onto his lap, where she promptly wriggled free of his hold and attempted to scramble back up.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, he stood up, taking his human extension with him, and headed through to the kitchen to prepare something for his wife to eat.

Amay exchanged a grin with Bard. “These two have him well under their control,” she said. “As does Fin.”

“So did Legolas at that age,” he replied. “For all intents and purposes, he might come across as quite cool and aloof, but his kids have total control over his heart.”

“I can see that,” she murmered.

“So do you,” he told her pointedly, lifting his cup and taking a drink.

She glanced back at him.

“He would do anything for you,” he said quietly. “And he’s been in pieces since your accident. Worried that he’s not taking care of you enough, not doing enough for you.”

“Oh Bard…he is,” she said, a frown of distress on her face. “He’s been so good with me, he really has. I don’t know of any guy who’d look after a woman the way he has with me.”

“That’s because they’re not all married to you,” Thranduil quipped, leaning down behind her and pressing a swift kiss to her cheek and catching her by surprise. “Do you fancy pizza?”

“Yes please,” she answered with a smile over her shoulder.

He hesitated, then cupped her cheek and turned her more towards him, crushing her mouth under his, before leaving and going back through to the kitchen.

Amaris toddled after him, chattering away as she chased his long legs.

Amay leaned back against the couch with Adira in her arms, a contented smile on her face.


	11. Cupid's Bow

** CHAPTER ELEVEN **

****

Amay grunted and fidgeted, unable to get comfortable.

Beside her, Thranduil was propped up on one elbow, watching the television with the sound turned down. “Everything alright, my love?” he asked, glancing at her.

“I just can’t get comfy,” she replied, tugging at her clothing. She’d taken a rather awkward shower trying not to get her cast wet, and put on one of his shirts. The gesture had warmed his insides as she’d hobbled with her crutches from the bathroom, the shirt falling to partway down her thighs on her smaller frame. The white shirt had dwarfed her, but he’d silently acknowledged it had never looked better on anyone else than her, the buttons open to partway down her front to allow cool air to flow around her.

“Maybe lie on your side?” he suggested.

She shook her head. “This damned cast is doing my box in,” she muttered. “I can’t wait to get shot of the thing.”

“Legolas will have nothing to vandalise,” he remarked dryly.

“I’ll break his leg then, and he can get his own cast,” she retorted, still fidgeting. “Then he can vandalise and graffiti the thing to his heart’s content.”

He laughed softly, surfing through the channels.

Just over a week had passed since her emotional outburst over being unable to change the bedsheets, and he felt she had reached a stage of acceptance that she would be limited in her activities for a while.

“Would a glass of wine help you unwind?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think it would be a good idea babe,” she replied. “I took painkillers not long ago.” She’d taken herself off the morphine, with Sharon’s approval, and was relying on over-the-counter analgesia instead.

He glanced down at her. “How about a coffee?”

“Lord, no,” she laughed. “I’d end up wide awake until next week at that rate.”

Thoughtful blue eyes gazed into hers.

“What?” she questioned curiously.

His sensual lips curved into a smile. He said nothing, but lowered his head with excruciating slowness, his full mouth whispering past hers in a touch so brief, she thought she had imagined it. A soft hum of pleasure sounded from her as his lips touched the underside of her jaw, and explored a path down her neck. Her eyes closed as she felt his tongue lick the base of her throat.

“What are you doing?” she murmered, lost in the sensations which were rapidly awakening and flourishing through her body.

“Helping you to relax,” he whispered, his mouth continuing to tantalise her flesh in the softest of touches as it travelled. Again his tongue swept lightly over her skin, where the front of his shirt parted.

She leaned her head to one side towards him, enjoying the pleasure of his touch.

He used his nose to push the two sections of fabric further apart, dropping kisses to the areas exposed. One hand undid another button, allowing him more freedom to continue his journey of exploration.

She involuntarily arched her back a little; a move that did not go unnoticed by her lover. He smiled against her, licking up the swell of her breast, which was still partially covered.

Another button twisted free.

“You are such a _tease,_ ” she moaned softly. “This is so unfair.”

“Define _tease,_ ” he replied in a hushed tone. The shirt moved slightly, exposing a little more flesh.

A distinct ache gnawed in between her legs. “What you are doing,” she replied breathlessly. “Mmm…but it feels _sooo_ good…”

“Teasing is when your lover excites you and leaves you frustrated and wanting,” he whispered, nudging the shirt further. “I have no intention of leaving you frustrated and wanting, my darling.” His lips closed around her erect nipple, sucking in a strong rhythm.

She bit her lower lip, her hips wriggling as the ache intensified.

“I have every intention of sating your desire,” he continued, pulling back and blowing cool air over the puckered flesh. His groin swelled painfully, aching to be buried inside her, but he ignored it.

“I can’t do much like this,” she gasped, one hand clutching his shoulder as he took her nipple into his mouth again. “Oh _fuck_ …”

His warm tongue swirled around the peak as he sucked strongly, his soft hair falling over her torso and tantalising her further. Her hand left his shoulder and burrowed into the blond tresses.

The last button on the shirt popped free, and he pushed the fabric aside, exposing both breasts. Shifting slightly, he turned his attention to the neglected one, lavishing the same beautiful torture.

Amay squeezed her eyes closed, her breathing rate increasing. The hand that he’d been leaning on previously had slid under her neck, and his thumb rubbed slow circles on a sensitive spot just below her ear.

Her body trembled under his touch, which again, did not go unnoticed.

“Such beauty…such perfection,” he whispered, turning back to her other breast again. “Such a crime to be hidden away…”

Whatever she had been about to say died in her throat as he closed his mouth over her, his sucking motion slow but powerful. A strangled sound echoed from her instead.

The sound turned to a deep moan of lust as she felt his hand slide down her abdomen and disappear in between her legs, where he found her aroused and ready for his intimate touch. Her hips pushed up slightly, silently begging him.

“Lift your right leg up over me,” he commanded softly.

She complied, twisting her calf up over his waist and around his back, opening her thighs.

“Better,” he murmered, his fingertips lightly teasing the junction in between.

“Thranduil,” she gasped, her head rolling from one side to the other. “Thranduil… _please…_ ”

“Please what, my darling?” he whispered. “What would you have me do?” His warm palm caressed the inside of her thigh.

“Anything,” she ground out in desperation. “Everything.”

His sucking motion increased in intensity as two fingers delved inside her, her body twisting and arching into him at the intrusion. “Mmm,” he murmered. “So _hot…_ you are desperate to come for me…you are _throbbing_ to come, my darling.” His fingers slowly worked in and out of her as he spoke, each movement tightening the vortex of sexual tension that had her imprisoned in its grasp.

She cursed fluently and rapidly as his fingers plunged in faster and the heel of his hand rubbed against her clitoris. Her hand tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough for him to lift his head and gaze down at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, her breathing ragged. Her body moved with his movements, each deep thrust of his fingers being welcomed by the lift of her hips.

Lowering his head, he ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, just a slight feather-like touch.

Her control wasn’t as strong as his, as she pulled him closer and crushed her open mouth against his. He took advantage instantly, plunging his tongue inside and demanding she relinquish all control.

She did.

His fingers twisted and turned as he pushed them into her, heightening the sensations and taking her pleasure higher and higher.

“Your body wants to climax,” he whispered against her panting mouth. “It wants to tighten to an intolerable level and balance there, feeling the exquisite pleasure reach higher and higher until it explodes.” Warm lips rubbed hers in a sensual kiss. “Come for me, baby. Scream for me.”

She whimpered against him as her body complied, her orgasm hurtling with speed towards her. She trembled in his arms as he kept his promise and took her closer and closer, until her muscles gripped his fingers in an iron grip and her climax burst through her like a tidal surge.

His mouth covered hers as she thrashed in his arms, swallowing her screams and cries of passion as her body went into orgasmic meltdown, his hand still continuing to pleasure her through the spasms that swept over her.

Finally slowing his movements, he lifted his head and smiled down at her, his fingers still buried deep inside her clenching body. “Do you feel relaxed now?” he asked.

Her chest heaved as she panted for air. “Yes,” she laughed, out of breath, and jerked as he flexed his fingers. “Oh my God, that was mean!”

He chuckled, giving her a slow kiss as he gradually withdrew from her soaking wet heat. “Maybe now you will be able to sleep,” he murmered, in between soft, tender kisses.

“But you haven’t-“ she began.

“Sshh,” he whispered, still kissing her. “I have all the pleasure I need making you come. Sleep, my darling.”

She murmered half-hearted protests, but he gently lifted her leg back down and rolled her to face him, tucking her head against his shoulder with one final brush of his mouth against hers. Her eyes closed, and she sighed in contentment as her body finally relaxed; safe and comfortable in the strong arms that held her.

*****

“It won’t be long now before this cast comes off,” Sharon said, packing her equipment into her ever-present hold-all. “And then you won’t need me anymore.”

Amay watched Bard, who lifted his eyes briefly to glance at the nurse, before looking away again.

“Oh I don’t know,” she murmered thoughtfully. “I’ll probably still need your advice and guidance for a while longer.”

Bard met her eyes, before darting away again, and she grinned to herself.

“Have you got dinner plans?” she asked suddenly, with a burst of inspiration.

“Uh, no,” Sharon replied.

“Fancy crashing here for something to eat?” she asked, deliberately ignoring Thranduil’s raised eyebrow and accompanying smirk as he looked at Bard. “It’s Bard’s turn to cook tonight, and he’s really good in the kitchen.”

“Oh…I wouldn’t wanna impose,” the nurse said nervously.

“Nonsense,” Thranduil said, deciding to play along with his wife and try to set his friend up with someone. “You would not be imposing. You are more than welcome to stay. I think the twins might like another person to terrorise at mealtime as well.”

She laughed. “They’re too cute and adorable to terrorise anyone,” she remarked. “I’ve never met such lovable kids in my life.”

Amay snorted. “Just wait until the temper tantrums start,” she huffed. “Cute they may be, but by God do they sprout horns at the speed of light when the notion takes them.”

“A trait which they inherited from you, my darling,” Thranduil purred, dropping a kiss to her lips as he passed to see to Fin, who had started to yell from the carry-cot he had been sleeping in.  

“I just love how mum gets the blame for the bad shit,” she grumbled, gazing after him with a pang of longing. “Actually…now I think about it, I _do_ seem to take the blame when either of them are cranky or out of sorts!”

Sharon grinned. “Listen, if you’re serious about dinner, I have a few more house calls to make first,” she said.

“Of course I’m serious,” she replied immediately. “I’d enjoy having another female to talk with; those three just babble nonsense every mealtime.”

The nurse laughed, glancing over her shoulder as Thranduil reappeared with Fin balanced on one hip. “Ok, I’ll be off then. I shouldn’t be longer than two hours, give or take ten minutes. What shall I bring?”

“Just yourself,” Amay replied firmly. “Hang on, I’ll walk you out,” she added, deliberately making an issue of scrambling for her crutches.

“Stay put, Amay,” Bard said, getting to his feet. “I can walk Sharon to her car.”

“Thankyou,” she smiled innocently, relinquishing her half-hearted attempt at getting up from the couch.

The two left the room, and she turned her gaze towards her husband, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes.

“You are a menace,” he said softly. “An absolute uncontrollable menace.” A smirk accompanied his words.

“In what way, my husband?” she asked innocently.

“You are devious, cunning, and a downright romantic at heart,” he laughed. Moving Fin to his other hip, he leaned over and kissed her mouth, which was turned up waiting for his touch. “I think you may be in the wrong line of work, my love.”

“Well, somebody has to give them a nudge in the right direction,” she defended herself with a grin, eyeing his rear as he turned to sit on the couch beside her. She murmered in appreciation and ran her hand over the curve of his backside as he sat down.

“Later, my darling,” he said, flashing a grin at her as he settled their wriggling son.

She grunted in annoyance. “Spoilsport.”

Bard returned, giving her the eye as he sat himself on the arm of the massive chair across from them. “Feeling bored, as we recuperate, are we, Amay?” he teased, folding his arms.

“Nope. Creative,” she replied. “You like her. She likes you. No harm in a little push in the right direction, is there?”

The dark haired man rolled his eyes. “I think your name should have been Cupid, rather than Amethyst,” he muttered.

“Do you, or do you not like her, dammit?” she insisted. “Consider yourself lucky; we didn’t have anyone shoving us together when we met.” She glanced at her husband. “We had to muddle along and find our own destiny.”

“We managed alright,” the blond replied. “We did not need any outside help or assistance.”

“We did at one point,” she reminded him softly, vaguely aware of Bard moving himself through to the kitchen.

Thranduil’s eyes changed, taking on a look of sadness. “Yes,” he murmered thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought about that in a long time, months and months probably. Sam really pulled the stops out in making sure we got back together, didn’t he?”

She smiled wistfully. “I never did pay him back for the flight ticket,” she said.

“He would not have wanted it, my darling,” he told her. “All he wanted was to see us back together again, not at war on opposite sides of the planet. He knew true love when he saw it.”

“I miss him,” she said suddenly.

“As do I,” he replied. “He comes to mind quite often. And I see a likeness in Amaris, different ways she pouts.”

Amay laughed. “He lives on through our children,” she said, her tone quiet.

He nodded. “Yes. And he’ll always be nearby, making sure we are alright. I know this.”

She gazed into his ice blue eyes. “Somehow I know this too,” she said, and reached over for his hand, twisting her fingers through his. “Somehow, I just know.”


	12. Talking

** CHAPTER TWELVE **

****

Three weeks passed.

Amay finally had her cast removed, and was elated, being free to move around as much as her body would allow. Thranduil however, found himself on twenty-four-hour wife-watch to ensure she didn’t either overdo things, or do something stupid.

Like attempt to finish painting the bathroom ceiling.

“Amethyst!” he roared, his angry tone reverberating up the stairs as his feet pounded heavily up to the upper floor.

Amay froze. “Shit,” she muttered, looking for somewhere to hide the evidence. Shoving the can of paint and the roller behind the shower curtain, she straightened as the door crashed open. “Excuse you,” she declared. “I’m glad I’m decent!”

He glared at her, advancing on her and coming to a stop right at her toes. The move meant she head to tip her head right back to look up at him. “What are you up to, you monkey?” he demanded.

“I _was_ having a pee,” she replied, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m lucky I’d finished by the time you almost took the damned door off.”

He leaned over her. “My sense of smell is extraordinary,” he warned her. “As is my ability to detect bullshit. I could smell paint from downstairs.”

“Your arse,” she muttered, turning away.

He gripped her arm, turning her back. “Do not lie to me, my wife,” he said.

“About what? I was using the toilet, being under the assumption that that’s what the thing was installed for,” she shot back.

Ice blue eyes narrowed at her, and a burst of sexual longing zipped through her body. His sharp gaze caught her pupils dilating, and he smirked. “Tell me the truth,” he whispered, lowering his head so his mouth was a millimeter from hers.

Her breath caught as her gaze lowered to his soft, full mouth; her insides clenching in a silent call to mate with him. “About what?”

“What you were doing in here,” he whispered. His lips feathered over hers.

“What most people do in a bathroom,” she whispered back, pushing up towards his mouth.

He pulled back a little, just out of her reach. “Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmered. Her breasts felt swollen as she breathed against the strong wall of his chest.

He reached over her shoulder and brought his hand back round, showing her his finger.

Which was covered in white paint.

A perfect eyebrow arched in reproach. “You were saying?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse.

“Dammit Amethyst,” he sighed. “I wish you’d stop doing this nonsense the second my back is turned.” He turned from her to wash the evidence away.

“Thranduil…I get bored,” she whined.

He paused in washing his hands, tilting his head up and shaking it slightly. “I do not know what to do with you,” he muttered. Finishing up, he dried his hands, tossing the towel aside and planting his hands on his waist.

She held his gaze, and his anger faded as he read the sadness in the deep blue depths.

“Come here,” he said quietly, holding his arms out.

She stepped towards him, and he engulfed her in a tight embrace.

“I worry myself crazy about you,” he said into her hair. “You have not had the cast off five minutes, and already you are getting up to all kinds of mischief. I never know where you are, or what you are doing.”

She inhaled deeply, absorbing both his unique scent and his body heat. “I like to keep busy,” she murmered. Her hands locked at the back of his waist. “I see things that need doing, or that I want to do, and I do them. I can’t help it.”

“I know, and I am sorry I appear to be scolding you constantly. I just have to know that you aren’t going to come to any harm,” he replied. “All it would take would be for you to slip off the edge of the bath, or twist the wrong way, and your leg could break again. It is weaker after the break, remember.”

She sighed in defeat. “I know. But it’s not giving me any pain, I promise,” she told him. “It aches sometimes, but that’s all.”

He leaned back a little, looking down at her. “I know I seem like an over-protective bear, my darling, but I need to know that you are safe. I do not think I am asking for too much, am I?”

She shook her head, knowing he worried about her and wasn’t asking for the impossible.

“If you wish to do these things, please talk to me – I will gladly help you,” he said. “There is nothing I would not do for you; you know this.”

She nodded. “I have something to ask you,” she said, her voice quiet.

“Ask me anything, my love,” he said.

“I would love to go and see the horses,” she told him. “Would you come with me? Please?”

He smiled; a warm, tender smile that accompanied the love in his eyes. “Of course I will,” he whispered, and touched a soft kiss to her mouth. “I will go anywhere with you.”

“Thankyou,” she whispered.

He turned her, sliding one arm around her waist, and walked her through to their bedroom, where he sat her on the bed and dropped to his knees to put her sneakers on her feet.

“I can do that,” she said, watching him.

“I know you can, but I wish to do it for you,” he replied as he deftly tied the laces. “I think we should take the car, and leave it parked up so we can take the children for a walk.”

She nodded after a brief hesitation.

He didn’t miss a thing. “There will be no traffic, my darling,” he assured her, his tone soft. “We will simply cross to the horses’ field, nowhere near the main road.”

“Yeah, that’s ok,” she said with a forced smile.

He slowly rose to his full height, helping her to stand with him. He knew she had developed a fear of being in a vehicle since the crash, and understood why. Hoping time would sort it out for her, he guided her downstairs.

Shortly after, they had parked a short way from the fields and he had taken the kids’ buggies from the trunk. All three children were placed in their seats; the two girls on a double buggy which he took charge over, and Fin in a smaller one which Amay pushed.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous out here,” she commented.

“Yes,” he replied. They walked slowly, giving her time to exercise without putting strain on her leg. “The weather here is so much better than in London. And the air is cleaner, fresher.”

“It’s still polluted in the city,” she said. “But even there, it seems different.”

He glanced at her. “Do you ever miss the UK?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. “I left behind too many bad memories when I left. This was a chance for me to start over, find myself, and make a new life for myself. It took more than what I thought I could give at the time, but I’m glad I stuck it out.”

“As am I,” he smiled. “If you hadn’t, we might never have met one another.”

She halted, leaning her forearms on the handle of the buggy, contemplating his words. “They say your fate is already mapped out, and what’s for you won’t go past you,” she said. “But I have to agree with you – I don’t see how we could have met any other way. You were based in London, and I was in Scotland, four hundred miles away.”

“Life has a strange way of working out,” he said philosophically.

“Speaking of life, why is Ray still in fear of his?” she asked with a frown as they resumed walking. “He calls regularly, but won’t come over. What did you say to him?”

He slid her a sideways glance. “Not much,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. “Amaris, stop pulling your shoe off,” she said to her oldest daughter. “You’re not telling me the truth.”

“I am,” he said. “Although the fact that I threw him against the kitchen wall might not be helping things…”

“Oh Thranduil…why did you do that?” she asked, dismayed. “He’s my best friend.”

His cheeks turned a little pink as he clenched his jaw. “I thought that maybe there had been something wrong with his car when he asked you to drive it,” he told her. “Do not worry; Vicky stopped me from putting him _through_ the wall.”

“Oh babe,” she murmered.

“Amethyst, I went to pieces when you had that crash,” he said, stopping and turning to her. “And if he’d been the slightest bit responsible for it, he’d have paid dearly for it.”

“You were there,” she reminded him. “You saw what happened. That guy running the red light was nothing to do with Ray.”

“Maybe not,” he sighed. “But the car malfunctioned. And that should never have happened.”

A silence descended over them as they slowly walked.

“Thranduil, what happened, happened,” she said eventually. “And it wouldn’t have mattered if I was driving Ray’s car or ours; the outcome would have been the same either way.”

“Our car has eight airbags,” he pointed out. “And the seat belts have never shown any signs of not working properly.”

“Neither had Ray’s,” she said. “So I broke my leg and busted a few ribs, took some cuts and bruises. I came through it.”

“Thank God,” he murmered. “Do you want to keep Sharon for a while longer?”

She opened her mouth to reply, then shrugged instead. “I suppose I don’t really need her now,” she said. “Any rehab exercises I can do by myself, or with you. I guess having her at this point is just another added expense.”

An eyebrow lifted as they stopped next to the fence, Thranduil whistling for Storm and Starlight. “I see that being thrown upside down several times did not dispel the nonsense that goes on in your mind,” he commented. “You are still thinking of costs,” he added, at her quizzical frown.

“Oh. Yes – why shouldn’t I? If I don’t need her, why pay to keep her?” she said.

He grinned. “Bard seems to like having her around,” he noted.

“How did their date go?” she asked.

Her nurse and her friend had finally gone out on a date the previous night, fuelled by Amay’s attempt at match-making after the dinner they had all shared.

He smirked. “He didn’t come home last night.”

Her jaw dropped as her eyes widened. “Oh the dirty stop-out,” she laughed. “Well, at least it looks like things are going in the right direction.” She held her hand out to Starlight, who approached her and nuzzled her hand with her velvet nose. “Hey, girl.”

Storm butted Thranduil’s shoulder.

“I think we’ll keep Sharon for a few more weeks,” he decided, rubbing the horse’s neck. “It certainly won’t do any harm.”

Amay rested her forehead against Starlight’s, her eyes closed as she silently bonded with the animal. “I’m just thinking of what it costs to have her,” she murmered.

“Amethyst, stop thinking of dollars all the time,” he told her.

“But it’s a waste if I don’t really need her anymore,” she said.

He shrugged. “Like I said, it won’t do any harm. And it’ll give time for the connection between herself and Bard time to strengthen, if that’s what’s going to happen.”

“You’re as bad as me,” she laughed. Her gaze dropped to Fin, who was bouncing excitedly in his buggy at the sight of the magnificent horse interacting with his mother. “A bit too small yet, wee man,” she said, ruffling the child’s soft fuzzy hair.

“Let’s sit for a while,” Thranduil suggested, leaving the fence and pushing the girls towards a bench nearby. She followed, lowering herself to sit next to him, and he produced a can of coke from the bag on the buggy, handing it to her.

“Thankyou,” she said with a smile, his thoughtfulness touching her. It seemed he was always thinking ahead, anticipating her needs. She popped open the can, took a drink and handed it to him.

“Life has changed,” she said, gazing off into the distance.

“Nothing remains the same forever,” he acknowledged. “How do you feel it has changed?”

She looked back at him. “I feel like I’ve lost something,” she said. “I just can’t put my finger on it. Almost like my sense of adventure has gone; something like that. And it makes me sad.” She looked away again.

“Perhaps you just need time to adjust after what happened,” he said.

She shook her head. “You’ve changed too,” she said. “You’ve had to devote everything you have to me lately, and I see a change in you as a result.”

“Good or bad?”

“For you, bad,” she answered.

“I don’t understand.”

She took the can back as he passed it to her. “I think you’ve lost your sense of fun as well,” she said. “Life is so serious now, there’s no fun in it anymore.”

He inhaled deeply, thinking over her words. “This is not a time for fun,” he said finally. “There isn’t room for larking around, or getting up to mischief. Everything has to be aimed towards you recovering, and returning to full health again.”

She sighed, turning the can around in her hands. “I feel like…almost like you’re missing out on life these last few weeks,” she said. “You’ve spent every minute of every hour at my side, taking care of me, helping me to get washed and dressed, feeding me when I didn’t feel like eating, helping me when I had nightmares about the accident…” She trailed off.

“Baby, that’s what I am here for,” he said, a touch of anguish in his tone. “You must understand that. I am your husband, and I would _never_ turn away from you, or leave you to fend for yourself. Would you not do the same if I was in your position?”

She nodded.

“Look at me,” he said softly. “Legolas and Vicky have been with us around the clock, doing everything they can to help, watching the children so I could focus my attention on you because you needed it. Bard dropped everything and got on the first flight he could. This is _family,_ Amethyst. That is what family do; they close ranks when something bad happens and they pull together in a united effort to help. I know your experience of family in your past has been complete shit, but this family is completely different. We care about one another, we love one another.”

She remained silent.

He sighed; a deep, frustrated outlet of breath. “If I could go back through time and change your past, my love, I would. In a heartbeat. You don’t realise how jaded your outlook is on life, and the blame falls entirely on your mother.”

“Her legacy will never leave me,” she said, glancing at him.

“Yes it will, because I will force it out,” he replied. “I will not have our girls and our son growing up in the same mindset. They already know that they are surrounded by love, and they will always know that. As will you, through time.”

The breeze fluttered the ends of his long hair, lifting them slightly before settling them against him again. Ice blue eyes gazed into hers, waiting patiently.

“It’s hard for me, even after all this time,” she admitted. “When I think of everything that we’ve come through, all the trouble we’ve had to face, the fights we’ve had…”

“Troubles which we have faced together,” he said. “Arguments which have not ended our relationship, and never will. We find strength in each other, Amethyst. You have what I lack, and I have what you lack. The problem you have is that you do not believe in yourself, because you were never taught how to.”

“I don’t know if I can, after all this time,” she said on a laugh. “You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.”

“I also know what they say about you’re never too old to learn something new,” he counteracted. “Shall we head back home? The children will be getting hungry soon.”

She nodded, carefully pushing herself to her feet. Thranduil stood, resting one hand on the buggy and holding the other out for hers. She smiled, taking it, and they slowly made their way back to the car, holding each other’s hands and pushing the buggies side by side.


	13. Determined Amay

** CHAPTER THIRTEEN **

****

“Y’alright, Ray-Ban?” Amay demanded, throwing herself up onto the bar stool and wincing as her ribs protested against the jarring movement.

“Heya Peach, how’s you?” he grinned, turning and tossing the notepad in his hand aside. “Gimme a hug, dammit.”

She leaned across the bar and wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes in contentment. “Why haven’t you been to see me, you fud?” she asked as she pulled back. “I missed you.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Peach,” he said. “I didn’t think I was welcome, to be honest.”

“You never said that when we spoke on the phone,” she said. “That hurts, Ray. That really hurts.”

“I know Boss blames me for what happened, and I didn’t know if you did too,” he said.

“Shite,” she retorted. “He doesn’t blame you. And neither do I, so that’s no excuse. You shoulda come see me.”

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea, what with it being my car and all,” he said with a wistful look. “I feel so guilty about everything.”

She punched his shoulder. “Quit that shit,” she warned. “It wasn’t your fault. The driver of the Land Cruiser was as pissed as a fart and ran the red light, so it’s his fault. Not yours.”

“Stop punching me, dammit woman,” he grumbled good-naturedly, rubbing his shoulder as though she’d stabbed him. “I do feel bad though. And what the hell is a fud?”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You called me a fud,” he said.

“Ah. It’s a vagina,” she replied.

“Charming,” he grunted. “Nice to know you think so highly of me!”

“Just gimme a coffee, dammit,” she said, looking over her shoulder as Thranduil entered the nightclub. “Coffee, babe?”

He approached her, his arrogant stride making her insides melt. “No, thankyou,” he answered. “Ray…I uh…I want to apologise for the way I acted.”

Ray’s cheeks turned red. “That’s alright, no need for that,” he said.

“No, there is,” the blond said. “I acted out of turn, and shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you wouldn’t put Amethyst in harm’s way, and I shouldn’t have accused you the way I did.”

The deputy waved his hand dismissively. “It’s forgotten,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?”

“No, I’m fine,” he replied. “I’m just going to push the rota through to payroll,” he added to Amay, dropping a light kiss on her lips.

She watched him as he sauntered up the stairs towards the office, her eyes dropping to his backside which was lovingly caressed with soft denim.

“Oooft,” she muttered shaking her head as she turned away again. “That should be illegal.”

“Your thoughts probably are,” Ray quipped, pushing a steaming cup of strong, black coffee towards her. “I see broken bones and bruises haven’t knocked the perverted-ness out of you.”

She grinned. “And never will,” she laughed, stirring heaped spoonfuls of sugar into the cup. “What’s on the agenda for the weekend?”

“Looks like it’s going to be absolutely jumping,” he replied, leaning his forearms on the bar. “There’s not an empty hotel room in fifty miles. Everything’s booked solid for the parade on Saturday.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What?”

“I just might come in and pull a shift,” she said.

“You’re off your head,” he decided. “Boss’ll never let you.”

“Ha,” she snorted. “I have ways of getting around him.”

“I do _not_ want to know!” he yelled, jumping back and holding his hands up defensively. “Yuck. You make me wanna puke.”

“You’re just jealous because I get better sex than you do,” she spat. “Face facts, fucker.”

He snorted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m having nothing to do with whatever crap you’ve got planned to get around your other half,” he told her. “So whatever it is, count me out.”

“Who said you were even counted in?!” she retorted, lifting her cup and sliding from the stool. “See ya in a bit.”

She climbed the stairs, ever mindful of the injuries she’d sustained. Her body was tormented with aches and pains from time to time, but overall she seemed to be healing at an acceptable rate, according to Sharon. Reaching the office, she pushed the door open and went in.

Thranduil looked up and smiled. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she said, sipping her coffee as she crossed over to the couch that sat against the office wall. “Just wanted to tell you I love you.”

Ice blue eyes flicked in her direction, before focusing back on the laptop. “I love you too,” he replied.

She crossed one knee over the other, tapping her lifted foot to the beat of the music which filtered up from the dance floor.

“Out with it,” he sighed after a few moments, looking back at her.

“Out with what?” she questioned.

One eyebrow lifted. “Whatever it is that you want,” he replied dryly. “I know when you want something.”

She scoffed, and took another drink.

He swivelled the seat around to face her, leaned back and folded his arms.

“Ray thinks it’s going to be busy this weekend,” she said casually. “Busy as in jam-packed. Everywhere’s fully booked with the parade that’s on.”

He maintained his silent stare.

She smiled at him, and looked away again.

“Oh no,” he said, as the penny dropped. “Amethyst, it’s far too soon for you to be thinking of returning to work.”

“Oh, come on,” she whined. “It’ll give you a break, and it’ll get me out of the house for a while, see something different. Nothing can happen to me here, the guys would look out for me.”

“Amethyst, you almost _died_ not two months past,” he said, horrified.

“Ah, but I didn’t die, did I?” she challenged.

He sighed in exasperation. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he muttered.

She pursed her mouth and watched him.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the laptop. “I will think about it,” he huffed, tapping at the keys. “And that is all I shall promise.”

She grinned, knowing she’d won the first half of the battle. Getting up, she went over to him, leaning across the desk and stealing a kiss from his full, kissable mouth. “Thankyou,” she murmered.

“I haven’t agreed yet,” he reminded her. “I would feel better if I did the shift and you stayed at home.”

“That’s defeating the purpose,” she pointed out.

He scowled at her. “Did that hair-brained deputy put you up to this?” he demanded, and she laughed heartily.

“Nope. He said he was having nothing to do with it,” she told him. “You might turn him on, but you terrify him.”

He grunted. “I would not put it past him to enable you in one of his ridiculous schemes.”

“More like me enabling him into one of mine,” she muttered.

“I heard that,” he told her, hitting the send button and closing the laptop. “Leave it with me, my love. That’s all I can promise. You know I won’t tell you that you can’t if you really want to, but I want to feel comfortable.”

She nodded. “I know, which is why I asked you,” she replied. “Come on Gorgeous; I’ll take you and the kids out for lunch.”

“ _I_ will take _you_ and the kids out for lunch,” he corrected, rising to his feet. “A lady never pays.”

*****

“Hey! Stop that, Amaris,” Amay said crossly, untangling her daughter’s fists from her sister’s hair. “That is _not_ nice.”

“Nice,” the toddler parroted, picking up a piece of garlic bread and throwing it at Bard.

Amay sighed in exasperation. “Thranduil! Have a word with your offspring!” she yelled over her shoulder. “She’s behaving like a brat.”

“That’s because she has your temperament, my love,” he replied, approaching the table with a huge ovenware dish of pasta. He set it in the middle of the table, and dropped a light kiss on her scowling mouth before going back towards the oven.

“Are you saying I’m a brat?” she demanded.

Bard carefully picked crumbs from his hair. “No, he’s saying she has a fiery temper, just like her mama,” he grinned.

She glared at him, pointing at him with her fork. “You don’t take sides,” she warned. “All that does is get you into trouble in this house.”

Sharon wiped tears of laughter away. “Oh my God, this is hilarious,” she laughed.

“Try living like this for a week,” Amay grunted. “Thanks, babe,” she added, as Thranduil placed a coffee in front of her.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, sitting down and serving the pasta concoction he’d prepared.

Amay continued to wrestle with her oldest child, to the amusement of those gathered around the table.

“D’you want me to sit her next to me?” Vicky offered.

“Thanks, but no – madam here has to learn manners and proper behaviour,” she replied. “And having Leggy in such close proximity will only encourage her.”

She glared at her step-son, who had his eyes crossed and was sticking his tongue out at his rebellious sibling. Shaking her head in frustration, she took the plate Thranduil passed to her. “So did you guys go see a movie last night?” she asked, directing her question at the couple sitting across from her.

“Yes, and we went for something to eat afterwards,” Sharon replied, taking a full plate from her host. “Thankyou. We went to a little seafood restaurant down on the west pier – you know the one?”

“Nope, I hate seafood,” she replied with a laugh. “The only thing I’ll eat is tuna, and even then it has to be drenched in mayo with sweetcorn through it. I’m not a fishy person at all.”

“You’re eating fish now,” Legolas pointed out.

“Duh…mayo and sweetcorn? Dummy,” Vicky laughed, elbowing him. “Men.”

“How’s your grandfather?” Amay asked.

The younger female nodded with a bright smile. “He’s improving, and I really feel that being home from the hospital has helped,” she said. “He seems to have made more progress since he went home.”

“I can relate to that,” she agreed.

“That’s why we try to encourage people to convalesce in their own homes where medically appropriate,” Sharon said. “Patients respond so much better when in their own surroundings than they do in a clinical environment.”

“Look at Thranduil; he was home four days after having a nephrectomy,” she pointed out.

“And you tried your hardest to smother me,” he quipped with a grin. “Amaris – no.”

The blond toddler turned large blue eyes to her father – so like his to look at – and gazed beseechingly up at him.  Amay watched the interaction between the two; the pleading look from child, and the loving but disciplinary look from father.

On Amay’s other side, Adira sat quietly, tucking into her food.

“So…have you thought about the weekend?” she asked suddenly, snapping back to the present.

Thranduil turned his head and glanced at her. “No. I have not.”

“Bollocks,” she muttered.

“What about the weekend?” Vicky asked.

“I want to do a shift or two at the club,” she responded.

“Yes – I’m on at the weekend,” Legolas said. “You’ll be alright with me Amay, I’ll look after you. Don’t worry dad, she’ll be fine.”

The older Oropherion glowered at his son, making Amay smirk discreetly. “Thankyou for your input, son. I haven’t given the subject any thought,” he said. “And when you mentioned it yesterday, you said nothing about _a shift or two,_ ” he said pointedly at his wife. “You said _a_ shift. There were no plurals in that statement.”

She batted her eyelashes at him, and Sharon started laughing.

He looked away, grumbling under his breath.

Sharon raised her eyebrows in silent question, to which Amay nodded confidently. Bard watched the exchange, a smirk hovering around the corners of his lips.

“Is there any reason, in your medical opinion, that Amethyst would not be fit enough to work?” Thranduil asked the nurse.

“No,” she replied immediately. “But I would strongly suggest against getting up on the bar to do The Twist or anything wild like that. Those ribs will give you grief for some time yet.”

“Which is why I would much rather she remain at home,” he said, sliding a sideways glance at Amay.

“Don’t be a party-pooper,” she shot back. “I can’t get into any trouble if Leggy and Ray are there with me, can I? Anything I do will get bloody well reported back anyway, so I’m stuck being boring and dull.”

Vicky grinned, digging into her meal. “Boring and dull are _not_ words which you could be associated with,” she said. “I’ve worked for you for long enough!”

“I honestly don’t see a problem Thranduil, as long as your hot-headed wife remembers she _is_ a little bit broken and damaged,” Sharon said.

“I told you dad, I’ll look after her,” Legolas piped up. “I’m on bar duty with Gary, so there’s no reason she can’t work with us.”

Amay watched Thranduil chew his mouthful of food, and knew he was deep in thought.

“Fine,” he said eventually, with a sigh. “But-“ he added as she threw her arms around him with a squeal. “-if you are sore, or tired, or anything I should know about, you call me. Understand?”

“Yesssss!” she squeaked, rocking him from side to side.

Everyone around the table grinned at her delight, while Amaris spotted an opportunity to join in her mother’s elation and tossed a handful of pasta at Legolas.

“I mean it, baby,” he whispered in her ear, words meant for her hearing only. “Do not overdo it, promise me?” His arms tightened around her as much as he could with her damaged ribs.

“I promise,” she whispered back, and kissed his cheek.


	14. Panic

** CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

****

Amay ran the brush through her hair, which was touching her rear as she moved. She swept the sides up to a ponytail at the top, leaving the lower sections loose down her back. Rolling her shoulders, she inspected her reflection, tugging the black vest top with white lettering into place.

She smiled as Thranduil appeared behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

One eyebrow lifted in amusement. “I would never have guessed,” he grinned. “The way you’ve been bouncing around the house, I’m almost beginning to think you can’t wait to get away from me.”

Her face fell.

“I’m joking, my darling,” he laughed, kissing her neck again. “Loosen up a little, sweetheart. I’m just playing.”

She turned in his arms, sliding her hands up to cross at the back of his neck. “I don’t want to get away from you,” she told him. “I love you and I want to be with you, all the time. But you need a break from me for a while, and I really miss being me, that’s why I really want to do this.”

“And you have my blessing,” he replied, lowering his head and brushing his full mouth across hers. “Mmm…I like…”

She grinned, tugging him closer for a deeper kiss before stepping back. “I’m going to head off, ok?” she said, lifting her phone and sliding it in her back pocket. “Call me if the kids are too much?”

He shook his head in amusement. “They will be fine,” he assured her. “Go. Enjoy your night, and remember – call me if you need me. You promised.”

She nodded. “I know. And if I need you, I _will_ call. I don’t break my promises.” Standing up on her toes, she crushed her mouth to his once more, savouring the feeling of the God who’d married her and devoted his life to her. “I’ll see you in the wee hours. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, and took a deep breath as she left the bedroom. He stood for a few minutes, rationalising in his head that she was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, and that she would indeed be fine.

Outside, Bard looked up from the magazine he was reading, leaning against the hood of the CRV. “You ready?” he asked with a grin as Amay hopped down the last step onto the gravel.

“Oh yes,” she replied. Swinging herself into the passenger seat, she snapped the seat belt around her.

Bard tossed the magazine into the back seat and slid onto the driver’s seat, fastening his seat belt and reaching for the ignition.

Time instantly slowed down to a crawl.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Her gaze went to his hand as he gripped the key, and time seemed to grind to a halt as he turned it.

She started to breathe faster.

He put the vehicle into reverse, and the car started to move.

Her heart thudded harder, and she swallowed. She closed her eyes.

He said something, but his words were muffled through the roaring in her ears, and she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Starting to hyperventilate, she gasped and undid the seat belt, forcing her eyes open again. The car had stopped, and she opened her door and flew out.

“Amay? Are you alright?” Bard asked, leaping from his side. “Amay? What’s wrong?”

She leaned over, her hands resting just above her knees, breathing hard and fast. “I can’t do this,” she panted, shaking her head. “I’m sorry…I can’t do this…”

“Hey, its ok,” he assured her, standing beside her but not touching her. He studied her, watching as she slowly lifted her head and gazed at the car, and he realised what the problem was. “Do you need Thranduil to drive you?” he asked gently.

She shook her head hard, swallowing as she tried to calm her rising panic. “It’s not you,” she whispered. “I promise, it’s not you.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. Wait here…I’m going to get him.”

He disappeared, and within seconds she felt strong arms wrap around her and pull her into an upright position, crushing her body against a solid chest.

“Breathe, baby, breathe,” Thranduil whispered.

She gasped as she clutched the back of his shirt, her body trembling.

He remained quiet, just holding her silently for a few minutes until he felt the tremors leave her. Burying her face in his hair, she concentrated on steadying her breathing as she absorbed his strength and his body heat.

Slowly pulling back a little, he lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I feel like shit,” she said quietly.

“There is no need,” he told her. “If you still wish to go in tonight, I will drive you. If you want to stay here, then that is alright as well. There is no pressure. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable, my darling.”

She took a couple of deep breaths. “I need to sit down,” she said, disentangling herself from his arms and sitting right there on the gravel. Thranduil lowered himself down and sat with her, not caring that they were in the middle of the driveway. “Why has this never happened before?” she asked, anguish in her blue eyes. “I’ve been in the car since the accident, and I’ve been alright.”

He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them. “You were on heavy painkillers,” he answered. “They would have affected your reactions. And any time you were out, it has always been me driving. This is the first time someone else has got into the car with you.”

She lowered her head, still breathing deeply. “Poor Bard,” she murmered.

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him again. “Slow your breathing down,” he said softly. “And do not worry about Bard. He knows this is a panic attack, and he knows why. I did not have to explain it to him; he already knows.”

She focused on his hypnotic eyes, willing herself to calm down to a tolerable level. The warmth of his large hand holding both of hers and the heat coming from the fingertip that was placed gently under her chin gave her the strength she needed, and she slowly felt herself going back to normal again.

His ice blue gaze held hers, and she could feel her body responding; her heartbeat slowing down, her breathing regulating, and her adrenalin lowering. He blinked slowly, never breaking the connection between them. His chest rose and fell as he took steady breaths, and hers automatically adjusted to his rhythm.

“That’s better,” he said softly, with a small nod as he removed his finger. “I think you need a coffee, while you decide what you want to do.”

She nodded after a moment or two, acknowledging to herself that her original intention was probably not the best course of action for her to take at that exact moment in time.

He pushed himself to his feet, keeping her hands in his and tugging her to stand with him. Releasing one hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked back up the steps with her, using his heel to hold the door open as they passed into the house. They walked side by side into the kitchen, where Bard was already making two mugs of coffee.

He glanced over his shoulder as they went in. “Are you alright, Amay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. Breaking free from her husband, she crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her friend from behind, leaning her cheek against his back. “I’m really sorry.”

He chuckled. “There is nothing to apologise for,” he told her, stirring the mugs and dropping the spoon into the sink. He patted her arm comfortingly. “Being honest, you’ve done exceptionally well by even going in the car at all, this early on.” He turned, dropping a kiss to her cheek and handing her a mug.

Thranduil approached and took the other mug, his gaze on his wife. “I think she only feels safe when I’m driving,” he said, lifting a hand and gently rubbing the back of her neck as he spoke. “That’s not to take anything away from you or your driving, it just seems to be what helps her to feel settled.”

“Hey, I know, man,” Bard replied. “I’m glad you were close by though, rather than something happen half way to Indigo’s. And it just goes to show the strength of the bond between you both.” He smiled at Amay. “Don’t worry about anything,” he told her, and moved away from the pair.

She heaved a heavy sigh, pulling her phone from her pocket. “I might as well call in, tell Ray I’m not going to show up tonight,” she said.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Thranduil asked. He leaned his hip against the worktop and folded his free arm over his torso.

She nodded, swiping through the screens on the phone. “Yes. I really don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind now, not after freaking out like that.”

He reached over and took the phone from her, setting his mug down beside him. “You did not freak out, you had a reaction, that is all,” he told her. He pressed the screen on the phone and she could hear another phone ringing.

“Good evening, Indigo’s, Ray speaking. How can I help?”

“Hi Ray, it’s Thranduil,” he said, his eyes on Amay. “Amethyst is feeling a little sore tonight, so she’s decided not to come in.”

“Aw, poor Amay,” Ray said sympathetically. “Tell her not to worry, we’ll be fine. Does she need anything?”

“No, I think she’s ok,” he replied. “She’s going to take some pain relief and have an early night.”

“No problem. Call me if you guys think of anything you need,” the deputy said cheerfully, and ended the call.

Thranduil flipped back a few screens before setting the cell on the worktop, turning back to look at Amay.

“Thankyou,” she said softly.

“No thanks needed,” he replied. “Nobody needs to know what happened. It is nobody’s business.”

She stepped closer to him, leaning her forehead against his upper chest. He lowered his head and softly kissed her hair.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied, lifting up to look at him. “I’m sorry I’m a failure.”

“Oh my God…Amethyst, you are _not_ a failure,” he said. “Don’t ever think that. I hadn’t even considered what would happen if I was not in the car with you; it didn’t even occur to me.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “I didn’t realise just how much I’ve depended on you being right at my side, until now.”

He offered her a small smile. “It isn’t a bad thing,” he said. “At least, it doesn’t have to be. When you’re ready to drive with someone else, you will know. Until then, I’m happy to take you anywhere and everywhere that you need to go.”

She gazed up at him, mesmerised by the love and understanding that radiated from the ice blue eyes that gazed back.

“The children are bedded down for the night,” he said. “Why don’t we go cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie? Something to take your mind off everything?”

She nodded. “That sounds like a great idea,” she said. Reaching around him, she lifted his mug and headed through to the comfortable lounge, sensing rather than hearing him follow her.

Bard was sprawled in the armchair next to a massive potted plant, and looked up from his phone with a smile. “You guys ok?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” she replied, sitting down on the couch and tucking her legs beneath her.

Thranduil sat beside her, immediately putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. “Is there anything good on tv?” he asked his friend, as he took a drink of coffee.

Bard made a face. “There’s a wildlife docu just about to start,” he replied. “Or some action-type-thriller malarkey if that’s what you prefer.”

The couple exchanged glances.

“Action-thriller?” he asked, and she nodded with a grin.

Bard tossed the remote control over, grinning at the screen on his phone.

“Sexy text messages?” Amay quipped with a grin.

“Something like that,” he replied with a laugh. “Damn…I really like this woman.”

“I knew you liked each other,” she replied smugly. “I have a knowing for these things – I knew you’d be a good couple.”

“I have a good feeling about her,” he admitted, a pink hue colouring his cheeks as he grinned. “She seems different.”

Thranduil smirked beside her. “Is this the start of something beautiful?” he mused.

“Definitely,” she replied straight away. “I think this is a match made in heaven.”

“Come off it, you pair,” Bard laughed. “You have us married off with a hoard of kids already!”

Amay shrugged innocently.

“Speaking of which…I hate to do this, guys, but I’m going to have to think about going home,” he said. “I’ve been away from my children for too long, and I don’t think there’s much more here that I can do.”

Thranduil nodded in understanding. “We both really appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” he told his friend. “I don’t know how I would’ve coped if you hadn’t been here.”

“You’re a strong person, Thrand. You’d have got by. But having a friend around maybe made things a little easier,” Bard said. “I know what I would’ve been like, and it’s something I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”

“It hasn’t been easy, particularly on Thranduil,” Amay said quietly, raising her hand to hold on to his that hung over her shoulder. He squeezed her fingers. “You’ve been a great friend, to both of us.”

“That’s what friends do,” he replied, still typing frantically on his phone. A smile curved his mouth. “This lovely lady has invited me to meet her in town for a coffee and a late supper…I think I might just take her up on it.”

“Get out of here!” she yelled, making Thranduil jump in surprise. “Go on – beat it!”

Bard’s smile widened to a grin as he got up from the chair. “Might as well make myself presentable first,” he said, and headed out of the lounge.

“Have a great night,” Thranduil called after him. He turned back to Amay, who was watching him quietly. “Are you alright, my darling?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “I’m actually pretty drained…surprising seeing as I was so hyped up not half an hour ago.”

He lifted the hand over her shoulder and played with her hair. “Your adrenalin shot up and crashed with no warning,” he told her. “That is going to leave you lethargic and drained, my love.” Ice blue eyes met hers as he took his attention away from her hair. “Shall I run you a warm bath? Lots of bubbles and candles?”

She smiled, tucking her head in against his neck as his arm tightened around her. “Maybe in a little while,” she replied. “I’m too comfortable to move right now.”

He smiled, taking a drink of his coffee.

Within ten minutes, she was fast asleep.


	15. No Control

** CHAPTER FIFTEEN **

****

“Bad!” Amaris screamed, lifting both her arms in the air. “Bad!”

Amay tried not to laugh as her indignant child toddled across the floor in hot pursuit of Bard, demanding he lift her.

“Bad!” Her tone became angrier, more insistent, until eventually her mother started to laugh.

“What is it, little Princess?” Bard asked, giving in and lifting the irate child. He swung her round onto his hip, and her face immediately broke into a huge grin.

“Bad huggy,” she informed him, chewing on a handful of his hair.

Thranduil came down the stairs, frowning as he observed his daughter completely taking a loan of his best friend. “I get the feeling I am probably better off not knowing,” he muttered, shaking his head as he looked away.

“She’s demanding hugs from Bard, and won’t give him any peace until he gives her one,” Amay told him. “I was trying not to laugh, but her temper is so comical sometimes.”

An eyebrow arched in her direction. “If you laugh, you only encourage her,” he said.

“I know, but it’s impossible _not_ to see the funny side,” she defended herself. “She’s the height of shite with a temper like a volcano.”

“All the more reason not to encourage her,” he replied, dropping a light kiss on her lips as he passed. “Do you want a quick coffee before we head out?”

“Uh…no, I don’t think so,” she answered. “I’ve already had two; any more and I’ll spend the whole night in the restrooms. Thanks anyway.” She smiled at him.

He crossed back over to her, halting beside her and extending his hand. “Shall we?”

She took his hand and hauled herself up from the seat, straightening her top. “Yup. I’m ready if you are.”

“Have a good night,” Bard told her, as she grabbed her excited daughter in his hold to kiss her.

“I will,” she replied, and dropped to her heels to kiss Adira. “I don’t want to disturb Fin now he’s fallen asleep,” she told her husband. “Kiss him for me if he wakes up?”

“Of course,” he answered, taking her hand again and leading her out to the car.

She got in and buckled up, feeling no tension or panic at all as he slid in beside her, fastened his own seat belt and started the CRV.

Thranduil glanced at her as he eased the car out of the gates and onto the main road, keeping quiet. She sat next to him, her hands on her lap, looking out of the window.

“I’m alright,” she assured him. “I really don’t know what happened last night, or why. But it’s fine now, whatever it was.”

He smiled, changing gear and speeding up. “Good. I’m glad,” he replied. “The main thing is not to dwell on it. The fact that you can sit in the car and be as relaxed as you are says a lot, so hold on to that. Whoever the driver is, is not important right now.”

“I don’t know if and when I’ll go back to driving,” she murmered. “Right now, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Then don’t,” he advised. “There is no hurry, no race. And if you don’t ever want to drive, that doesn’t present a problem.”

“You can’t chauffer me around forever,” she commented. “But I’ll give it a try soon…I just don’t know when, exactly.”

“Do not pressure yourself, my darling,” he responded, smoothly changing lanes with a glance in the rear view mirror. “That has always been an issue with you.”

“What?” Her head spun round.

“I do not mean as in a problem for myself; I mean for you,” he replied. “Calm down. I merely mean that you put so much stress and importance on things that to others, would possibly seem trivial in the context of things.”

She pondered his words. “But maybe they’re not trivial to me,” she said eventually.

“That may be the case,” he said. “But I just don’t want you stressing yourself over something which can be handled in a completely different manner, that’s all. Such as me doing the driving, and you enjoying being driven everywhere.” He flashed her a grin, turning his attention back to the road, and she narrowed her eyes at his profile.

“You have a way with words,” she grumbled, fidgeting to get more comfortable in her seat.

“I have a way with lots of things,” he reminded her.

She laughed. “Stop it! I don’t want that thought on my mind the whole night.”

“It will give you something to think about should you feel the need to exclude yourself from what is going on around you for a few seconds,” he told her.

Before long, he swung the car into Indigo’s parking lot, leaving the engine running.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked.

“No, I’ll be alright,” she replied, undoing her seat belt. “Thankyou for bringing me…and for understanding.”

He leaned towards her, his warm lips touching hers in a tender kiss. “Any time, my love,” he whispered as he pulled back. “Have a good time, and call me if you need me.”

“I will if I do, but I won’t,” she grinned, getting out of the car and slamming the door. She lifted a hand to blow a kiss, then waved. “Love you!”

“Love you too,” he mouthed, and turned the car as she entered the nightclub.

Electric energy instantly flooded through her central nervous system.

The floor beneath her feet vibrated with the pounding beat of the music, and she smiled to herself as she headed along the back corridor to the bar area.

“Amayyyyyy!” Ray hollered, catching sight of her straight away. “Come give me a hug!”

She laughed as they moved towards each other, and he grabbed her in a tight embrace.

“Ow! Be careful, numbnuts – busted ribs, remember?”

“Ooops, sorry Peach,” he said, loosening his hold on her. “Great to have you back! What are you working tonight?”

“The bar,” she replied, squeezing past him. “Thranduil’s more settled knowing I’ll be working with Leggy.”

“Oh…doesn’t trust me, then?” he laughed.

“Doesn’t trust me, more like,” she replied dryly. “I’ve been warned about a hundred times to take it easy and to remember to call him if I need him.”

“Aww, that’s adorable, Peach.”

She smiled. “I know. But he needs a break away from me, Ray-Ban; he’s been running after me twenty-four-seven since the crash, and it’s not healthy for him.”

“I bet everything I have that he wouldn’t have it any other way,” he told her.

“You’re right, he wouldn’t,” Legolas supplied, popping up at Amay’s side. “Good to see ya,” he grinned, kissing her cheek.

“Thankyou, good to be here,” she replied with a smile. “Ok, let’s go! I see a hundred people who’ve danced themselves dry – let’s remedy that and make some money!”

*****

The night flew in.

The club became busier and busier, with people being turned away as they were at full capacity. Twice Amay left the bar and went outside to calm volatile situations, where potential customers were becoming irate at not being admitted. A few soothing words and special entry tickets for the following night settled the ruffled feathers and eased flaming tempers.

Heaving a sigh, she went back to the bar after her second trouble-shooting trip.

“You alright, Peach?” Ray asked, glancing up as he slid a cocktail across the bar to a customer.

“Yeah…it’s busier than it’s ever been,” she answered.

“Good for business,” he quipped. “Thankyou, honey,” he said to his customer, taking two twenty dollar bills from her as he totted up how much she owed. “Why don’t you take a break, Amay?”

“Nah, I’m ok for now,” she said, pushing past him and greeting another customer.

An hour or so passed.

Amay began to feel tired, and the atmosphere around her was boisterous and loud. Alcohol flowed like water, sales were through the roof, and her bouncers spent more time splitting up fights than patrolling the floor. A few times Legolas and Ray had to jump in, leaving her more or less handling the bar by herself. She flitted from one end to the other, keeping up with the orders and keeping the customers happy.

The music seemed to pound louder in her ears, and everywhere she looked she saw more and more people piling up to be served. Her two colleagues had returned, but she felt like she was slowly sinking and unable to rise again.

Fending off Ray’s questions and constant chattering, she made a massive effort to stay focused.

Customers became more demanding.

Strobe lights flashed faster.

Shouts and yells for service grew louder and more impatient.

Amay’s heartbeat resembled the pounding hooves of a racehorse in full gallop. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead as she took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together.

Ignoring the packed building that had started to spin around her, she leaned both hands on the bar and lowered her head, closing her eyes for a second.

Strong arms wound around her waist, quickly turning her.

“Thranduil!” she gasped.

Her tall, blond husband towered over her, his ice blue eyes gazing down at her. “Come on,” he said, tugging her away from the crowded bar. Pushing his way through the crowds, he kept one arm securely around her shoulders as he took her through to the deserted staff area, closing the door behind them.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wrapping her arms tightly around him and cuddling as close to him as she could get.

“Legolas sent me a text,” he replied, his hands caressing up and down her back. “He was worried about you; he said he thought you looked as though you were going to pass out.”

She shook her head against him. “I was ok,” she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his clothing. “It’s been so busy, that’s all.”

He lowered his head and rested against her neck. “You were close to another panic attack, my darling,” he said softly. “You have done too much, too soon. You should have called me.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, lifting her head from his shoulder.

He did likewise, noting her ashen cheeks and the tears in her eyes. Lifting his hands, he placed his fingertips gently on either side of her neck. “Your pulse rate is sky-high,” he said. “Your face is too pale. You look like you’re ready to cry. And you look exhausted.”

She blinked hard, determined to prove him wrong.

He stood still, his hands warm and gentle on her skin.

“I missed you,” she admitted in a quiet whisper, pulling him closer again.

He inhaled deeply as he slid his arms back around her. “Perhaps you should have done just a couple of hours, instead of trying to go through a full shift,” he said. “We haven’t been apart since the accident, my darling. You’ve had me with you around the clock, and tonight you’ve jumped into a chaotic environment, knowing I’m miles away from you.”

“I don’t want you to feel that I’m being too clingy with you,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “You need time away from me, time for yourself.”

He pulled back a little, a frown over his gorgeous eyes. “Why would you think like that?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Exhaustion washed over her in waves, and she shook her head to clear it as she swayed a little on her feet.

“I’m taking you home,” he decided. “Come with me.”

Gripping her hand in his, he ignored her half-hearted protests and led her from the staff quarters, heading back through the crowds towards the bar. Signalling Legolas, he beckoned him over, leaned over the bar to speak in his ear, then nodded and pulled Amay tightly against his side as he shouldered his way to the rear exit.

Settling her into the passenger seat of the car, he climbed in his own side, quickly manoeuvring the vehicle out onto the main road, away from Indigo’s.

The drive home seemed to go past in a flash, and before she knew it, he was squatting down on the gravel beside the open passenger door.

“You fell asleep,” he said, taking her hand. “Can you walk inside, or shall I carry you?”

She laughed, swinging her legs out of the car and standing up. “I’m alright,” she told him. “I didn’t realise how tired I was.”

He muttered something outwith her hearing range, closing the car door and leading her up the steps into the house. “Go have a quick shower, get into your pyjamas, and I’ll bring you up something to eat,” he told her.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied. “But I’ll go and have a shower; the club was really warm because it was packed.”

Giving him a quick kiss, she turned and headed up the sweeping staircase.

Thranduil sighed softly and went through to the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” Bard queried, flipping through a newspaper.

“Mmm,” his friend answered, deep in thought.

He frowned. “How is she?” he asked.

“She says she’s fine, but she didn’t look fine when I got there,” he replied as he searched the fridge. “She was pale, she was close to bursting into tears, and she looked exhausted. The club was absolutely mobbed, and I think she was struggling to keep up.”

The other man folded his arms and leaned his elbows on the table before him. “Give her time, Thrand,” he said. “She’s been inactive for weeks, and been feeling really down about it. I doubt she knows her own capabilities yet, and she’s taken on too much at the one time.”

Thranduil nodded, emerging with a block of cheese. “I think so.”

“And you weren’t there,” his friend grinned. “Whether she’s realised it or not, she’s used to having you as her shadow, and probably felt a bit lost tonight.”

“I think you’ve hit the nail right on the head,” he said.

Upstairs, Amay padded across the bedroom floor, heading for the shower. She stopped at the chest of drawers and pulled out pyjamas and a matching vest top. Bumping the drawer closed with her hip, she took a few deep breaths, feeling as though she had a heavy weight on her chest.

The room felt too warm, and she glanced towards the window to see if it was open. It was, and the curtain moved slightly in the cool breeze.

She went over to it, opening it a bit wider, tugging at the top she wore. When did it get so warm? She breathed harder, realising that she was breathing like someone who’d ran around the block a couple of times. She gripped the window ledge, willing her temperature to drop and her breathing to slow down.

Neither complied.

Cursing under her breath, she let go of the ledge and moved in the direction of the shower, thinking cool water might help her.

Halfway between the window and the bathroom door, the room started to spin around her, and her legs turned to jelly under her.

Everything went black.


	16. Thranduil's Confession

** CHAPTER SIXTEEN **

****

Thranduil sat the block of cheese on the worktop. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised,” he said. “Amethyst usually bounces back from things really quickly; she’s a very resilient person when the going gets tough.”

“Maybe, but who knows how the crash has affected her?” Bard said. “She was under anaesthetic for hours while they operated, and they say you can have all kinds of weird thoughts and dreams when you’re out.”

“She’s never spoken of any,” he said. “She does have the occasional nightmare, although not often. Normally I can settle her and she doesn’t wake up.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

“Does she sleep well usually?”

He grinned. “Like a sloth,” he replied. “I swear she could put sleeping down as an Olympic sport.” He turned his back to Bard to reach for the grater, but stopped. “I have a feeling something’s wrong,” he said, turning and leaving the kitchen.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried along the hallway and burst into their bedroom.

“Amethyst!” he gasped, seeing her lying on the floor. “Bard!”

He crossed quickly to her, dropping onto the carpet beside her and rolling her onto her back. She was breathing.

“Amethyst, can you hear me?” he said to her. “Amethyst!”

Footsteps raced along the hallway.

“Holy shit,” Bard exclaimed. “Shall I call an ambulance?”

Thranduil shook his head. “No. She’s still breathing,” he replied, holding his index and middle fingers to the pulse point in her neck. “And her heart is beating strong. Can you call Sharon?”

“I’m on it,” he replied, whipping out his phone and hitting speed-dial.

“Amethyst, I’m here baby,” Thranduil said softly, cradling her head. He could hear his friend talking rapidly on the phone out in the hall. “Everything’s going to be alright, I promise.” Tears blurred his vision, and he dragged a few breaths in to steady himself.

*****

Amay winced at the pounding headache she had as she opened her eyes, surprised to find herself lying on top of her bed. Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding hers, the other stroking her hair.

Sharon stood at his side, her arms folded. “You and I are going to have a talk, madam,” she said firmly. “Husband – out.”

Thranduil’s head whipped round. “What?! I am not leaving her,” he said indignantly.

“Out,” she commanded. “I need to examine her.”

“You can do that with me here, I do not have to leave for that,” he argued.

“Out!” the nurse practically shouted. She looked far from amused.

He turned back to Amay, who shook her head.

“Go on babe, I’m ok,” she told him softly.

He hesitated, before dropping a feather-light kiss on her mouth. Standing up, he glared down at Sharon.

“You don’t scare me,” she told him. “Now – out.”

The bedroom door closed behind him with a soft click.

Sharon turned her attention to Amay, sitting herself down where he’d been sitting.

“How long have you been having panic attacks?” she asked, her tone gentle.

“I haven’t _been having_ them,” she said. “I freaked out last night when Bard was going to drive me to work, and we all thought it was because I haven’t been in a car with anyone else apart from Thranduil since the accident.”

“And tonight? At the club?” the nurse pushed.

“That wasn’t a panic attack,” she scoffed. “It was just really busy, really loud, and it got too hot for me.”

“ _That_ was indeed an attack,” Sharon corrected her. “Indigo’s is an atmosphere that you are used to, and used to thrive in. Tonight’s reaction was completely different. What happened when Thranduil came for you?”

“I settled right away,” she told her. “And he brought me home, I feel asleep in the car, woke up when we got home, and came upstairs for a shower.”

“And fainted,” Sharon finished. “Amay…you should have called me last night when this first happened.”

She chewed her lower lip.

“Anything you want to tell me?” she asked.

“No.”

Sharon inhaled deeply, waiting for her to say something.

“I feel like I’m stopping Thranduil from living his life,” she said eventually, her voice quiet. “He says I’m not, but he’s done everything for me since the crash. He has no time for himself. I thought that by going into work, it would give him some time alone, away from me, time to read, or watch tv, or whatever…without me hanging onto him.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” the nurse asked after a short silence.

Amay nodded.

“And what does he say?”

“He says he’d do anything for me, and that I’m not burdening him,” she answered.

“So why don’t you listen to him?”

Deep blue eyes flashed fire for a split second. “I do!”

Sharon shook her head. “Not enough,” she told her. “Listen to me. If that guy out there, who I know for a _fact_ has his ear glued to the door, says he wants to do everything for you, then _let him._ Swallow that dumb-ass pride of yours, and accept the help he’s giving you. Yes, he’s your security blanket just now, but it won’t always be like that.”

Tears blurred Amay’s eyes, and she turned away.

“I don’t mean to upset you, honey, but you gotta listen to me,” she said. “There are thousands of women out there, and guys too, who don’t have a partner to take care of them. And if they do, it’s not like Thranduil’s doing with you. He loves you, he’s crazy about you…this is a way for him to show you that love. Don’t take that away from him.”

“I’m not trying to,” she said brokenly as tears ran down her cheeks. “We used to have such a fun relationship, now it’s all about him having to look after me, and it’s not fair on him!”

The door burst open and Thranduil strode in, his face pale and distressed. “Sharon, thankyou, but get out,” he said, in a tone that left no room for argument or discussion.

She silently stepped aside and left the room as he sat back on the edge of the bed, lifting Amay into a sitting position and crushing her to him.

“Why, Amethyst, why?” he whispered, his own tears starting to fall. “Why is this upsetting you so much? Why are you in so much pain and torment over this, my darling?”

Her tears became sobs as she clung to him, and she could feel him tremble in her arms. “I was brought up never to depend on anyone,” she cried. “I can’t help the way I am, I’ve tried to change it but I can’t. I was always told that to rely on someone was a weakness, and _never_ to rely on anybody, _never_ to rely on a man.”

He inhaled a shuddering breath, his tears dampening her neck as he held her. “All I want in the world right now is for you to rely and depend on me,” he said. “Maybe I need that to feel like I’m being a true husband to you.”

She lifted her head, stunned at his words. “What d’you mean?” she asked in a whisper.

“I could not protect and take care of Legolas’s mother,” he whispered brokenly. “You have given my life a new meaning, and I need to be able to protect and take care of you. I _need_ to.”

She gazed at him, her tears trickling down her cheeks. “But you do look after me, and take care of me,” she said. “You always have, since we first met.”

He shook his head. “I do not feel like I’m doing enough,” he told her. “I should have been driving that car, not you. I’m bigger and stronger than you my darling, perhaps I wouldn’t have been injured the way you were.”

She swallowed, leaning her head on his chest for a brief moment. “No, maybe you would have suffered more,” she said, looking back up at him. “Maybe you would’ve died. Maybe it was better you weren’t driving.”

“All I want is to look after you,” he said.

She reached up and wiped his tears away. “Thranduil, I’m not the only one fighting against my past here, am I?” she said. “You’re doing it as well. You’re feeling guilty because of what happened to Legolas’s mother, when you can’t. You can’t blame yourself for that, and you can’t mould your life as my slave as a result of what happened to her.”

“I need to feel that I’m fulfilling my role as your husband,” he whispered. “She died because she asked me to drive her to work, and I refused because I had been drinking the night before, well into the night. I would not have been sober enough to drive. She took the train and she died because of my decision.”

“But that isn’t your fault,” she told him, framing his face with both hands. “You _cannot_ hold yourself liable. If you’d given in and driven her, what would you have felt like if you’d had an accident? You really would have been responsible for her death, and you would have had to live with that. My accident wasn’t your fault, so stop putting yourself through this, babe.”

Heartbroken eyes held hers. “I do feel responsible,” he whispered. “I feel like I should have done something, I do not know what…anything…and you should never have been in that car.”

“Oh my love,” she sighed, leaning against him and sliding her arms back round him. “This has been in your mind since it happened, hasn’t it?”

He nodded against her, and sniffed as he tried to halt his tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said quietly. “We need to work together on this, and now we both know where each other is coming from, and what each other is thinking, maybe it’ll make more sense now. Maybe we can work _with_ each other rather than against each other. Am I making sense?”

He nodded again.

“Send Sharon away,” she said. “I don’t need her. Just lie here with me, cuddle in with me, and…just _be here_ with me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly pulling away from her, he took his phone out and sent Bard a text, before setting it on the bedside unit. “I feel like an over-protective bear,” he said with a shaky laugh.

“No you’re not,” she told him. “Now I know why you’ve been so hell-bent on doing everything for me the way you have. But you’re punishing yourself needlessly, babe. I feel so bad for putting on you all the time.”

He shook his head fiercely as he propped himself up on the pillows next to her, lying on his back and pulling her over to snuggle close. “You are not putting on me,” he said softly. “Please listen to me when I say that, my angel. I _need_ to do things for you, I _need_ to wait on you hand and foot…I am your husband, and I intent to fulfil that role the best I can.”

“You already do, you exceed it,” she mumbled, her face tucked in against his shoulder as she wound her arm up around him. “Oh my God. What are we going to do?”

“Continue to drive one another mad?” he suggested with a soft laugh. He wiped his hand across his cheeks. “Damn…we should talk about our feelings more.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I had no idea what you’ve been carrying around all this time. And I’m always getting into bloody accident-prone situations, which must be making it worse for you.”

He sighed, slowly rubbing his hand up and down her back. “No, I’m just trying to wrap you up in bubble-wrap and it is not a feasible thing to do to anyone, least of all you – you have a free spirit and it is not fair to clip your wings.”

“You haven’t,” she said, frowning as she lifted her head to look at him. She lifted his phone as it buzzed, read the incoming message and put it back. “Bard and Sharon are going out for coffee,” she said. “What makes you think you’re clipping my wings?”

“I always seem to be telling you what you can’t do,” he replied, shifting his gaze from the ceiling above them to her. “And that isn’t fair.”

She groaned in exasperation. “I’m going to lamp you if you don’t stop it,” she grunted. “I can take you back not so long ago when I was preparing to go through a brutal operation, and you talked me out of it, remember? It was for my own good, and you knew that, that’s why you did it. You don’t let me do dangerous things, and you don’t let me get into fights at the club anymore – that shows me that you _care._ I might get mad at first and kick off a little, but eventually it sinks in that you’re only doing it because you love me.”

He blinked, looking up at the ceiling again.

“I would be the same babe, if our situations were the other way around,” she sighed. “I can’t deny it – remember I ended up with a split head because some drunk idiot tried to attack you? I’m just as protective as you are, in my own way.”

His hand rubbed up and down her side as they lay together. “I thought I had what happened years ago buried in the past where it belonged,” he said. “But when I saw that car smash into Ray’s, it was like everything burst back out into the open again. Like one of those crazy cupboards you see on tv, where the door bursts open and half a country’s worth of rubbish pours out.”

“Then we have to sort through all that rubbish, together,” she replied.

“You sound really tired, my love,” he said, glancing down at her.

She lay half over his chest, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. “Nah, I’m alright,” she murmered. “You’re really warm, and I’m so relaxed lying here like this. I think I might stay like this for about a week, give or take a few days.”

He laughed. “Sounds magical,” he said. “If only.”

“Mmm,” she replied.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and the next time he looked down at her, she had fallen asleep. He kissed the top of her head and leaned back, closing his eyes.


	17. Solutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for a few days guys, as I've run out of back-up chapters and have only just finished writing this one. I'll be trying to find time in the background to keep going, so expect an update within a couple of days. Thanks for reading x

** CHAPTER SEVENTEEN **

****

Ray scowled as he glared at the newspaper in front of him. “This is just not right, Peach,” he grumbled.

“What isn’t?” She looked over her shoulder, shaking Fin’s bottle.

“The article on the funeral for the guy who smashed into you,” he replied. “They’re giving it the whole _misjudged_ and _not here to defend himself_ crap.”

She shrugged as she unscrewed the bottle and flipped the teat round, reclosing it. “Who cares? Don’t get mad at shit you read, it’s not worth it.”

“It’s still wrong though. He almost killed you, and his family are bleating about how unfair everything is,” he said. He folded the tabloid over, shoving it away in disgust.

“Forget it,” she advised. “Ah…the two main men in my life,” she said with a smile.

Thranduil entered the kitchen with Fin cradled on one arm, and the sight of the two of them took her breath away. Tall and strong, his long blond hair swirling around his arms as he walked, the child they had created together safe and protected in his hold. Her heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll feed him,” he offered. “You sit and have your coffee.”

She handed him the bottle. “Thankyou,” she said, leaning around Fin to kiss her husband.

Ray grunted something inaudible.

“Oh shut up,” she scolded. “How are things with you and your other half anyway?”

“Fine,” he replied. “Are you still bottle feeding him?!”

“Yes, from time to time. He finds comfort with a bottle, and stop changing the subject,” she said. “What’s the matter between you guys?”

“Who said anything was the matter?” he demanded. “Oh Peach…he wants to make our relationship permanent.”

“And what’s wrong with that? You’ve been dating for quite a while, and practically live together,” she said, sliding onto the seat across from him and lifting her coffee. “You’re commitment-shy.”

“Am not,” he snorted. “He’s a great guy, but there’s just something…something _missing…_ don’t know what.”

Her gaze drifted away and settled on Thranduil, who had sat on a chair and had Fin sat on his knee facing her. The child was trying to hold the bottle himself as he drank. Thranduil’s eyes lifted and met hers, and he smiled.

She smiled back, and turned back to her friend. “Are you sure it’s not just you being too picky?” she asked. “You’re an amazing bloke Ray, but goddammit you’re too fussy sometimes.”

He waved dramatically. “Bullshit.”

Four heads turned as Amaris and Adira charged through with a sudden burst of noise, followed by Legolas and Vicky.

“Hi guys,” Amay said. “How was the park?”

“Exhausting,” Vicky replied with a laugh, throwing herself down on the floor. Amaris immediately crawled on top of her, giggling. The excitable tot rolled over on top of her, tickling her, kicking her and laughing like crazy. “Leggy got stuck in the slide.”

Amay started laughing mid-way through a mouthful of coffee, and began to cough and choke. Thranduil rolled his eyes and walloped her on the back with one hand, holding his son steady with the other. Ray grinned.

“And what, may I ask, was a twenty-something _adult_ doing on a playground slide?” Thranduil asked, not expecting a reply that made any kind of sense whatsoever.

“Making an arse of myself and having a whale of a time,” Legolas replied. “I shot down it backwards; what a hoot.”

“I can guarantee that’ll come up on youtube somewhere,” Amay laughed, wiping tears of merriment away. “Somebody will have caught that on their phone.”

“Yasss…fame,” her step-son grinned. “I’m just going to wash up. Vicky, I’ll make you something to eat in a few minutes – I won’t be long.”

“No problem, babe,” she replied, and Amay caught the look of love that passed between the two.

So did her husband, and he met her eyes with a tender smile.

“So what are you going to do about work?” Ray asked suddenly, turning back to her.

She put her coffee down and lifted Adira as her little girl wandered over to her with her arms outstretched for a hug. “I don’t know,” she answered, hoisting her onto her lap and wrapping her arms around her. “Take it one day at a time, I suppose. What else can I do?”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Vicky asked from her position still on the kitchen floor. “Why don’t you go to work when there’s somebody to mind the kids, like myself and Leggy? That way, Boss can go with you.”

“That thought has already crossed my mind,” Thranduil replied for her. “I have been contemplating it through the night.”

Amay frowned at him. “When do you sleep?” she demanded.

“Who says I sleep?” he said with a grin, winking at her.

Her cheeks turned pink.

“Ohmygod, don’t you two start that sex-talk nonsense,” Ray hissed. “I feel sick as it is, goddammit.”

Amay lifted an empty coke can and bounced it off his head, making him squeal dramatically like the drama queen he was. “Jealousy gets you nowhere, you tosser,” she said.

Thranduil smirked, keeping his thoughts to himself. Truth be told, Ray would probably have a heart attack if he could access his thoughts as he gazed at his wife. They’d spent the previous night held tight in each other’s arms, with Amay sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks, and he dozed back and forth as he turned things over in his mind, trying to put things to rest and come to terms with their situation.

She had awoken that morning with a sparkle in her eyes that he hadn’t seen for a while, and throughout the day she had seemed to almost glow every time his eyes had settled on her.

The knowledge warmed him inside.

He snapped back to the present, to find Amay and Ray in a heated debate about the definition of the word pervert. He shook his head, concentrating on Fin, who had almost finished the bottle.

“You’re a twisted _freak,_ ” Amay spat with a scowl.

“Ha! Takes one to know one, you sex-mad harlot,” he sniffed.

“You wouldn’t know sex-mad if it hit you in the face,” she scoffed. “You’re just mad because I get more sex than you do, and better sex too.”

“Ok guys, I think it’s time for a subject change,” Legolas announced, bouncing through the doorway. Amaris immediately rolled off Vicky and scampered over to him, hanging on to his legs. “C’mon Short-Stuff, you can help me make something to eat,” he told her, swinging her up onto his hip. “You guys want anything?”

“No. This horrible, wretched woman has ruined my appetite for _life!”_ Ray hissed. “In fact, I’m going home. You’re not corrupting me anymore, you deplorable excuse for a human being.”

Amay laughed heartily. “You don’t know the half of it,” she told him. “Get your arse out of here then. I’ll catch up with you over the weekend.”

“Aright, Peach,” he said, getting up and hugging her. Crossing the room, he kissed all three kids, before drawing Thranduil a look and deciding not to go any closer. “See y’all later.”

A chorus of farewells echoed after him as he left the house, leaving the family unit.

Thranduil took a deep breath. “I would like a family meeting later,” he announced.

Everybody’s heads spun in his direction.

“What’s up?” Amay asked, concerned.

He smiled, rubbing Fin’s back and patting it to make him bring up wind. “Nothing is up,” he replied. “I just had an idea and wanted to share, get everyone’s viewpoints.”

“Uh…I’ll head off once I’ve had whatever Leggy’s making for me,” Vicky said.

He frowned. “No. I said _family_. That includes you as well.”

Amay smiled at her as her eyes widened, and rested her chin lightly on Adira’s head. Her child was so gentle-mannered, and had a calm, observant way about her. Definitely inherited from her father, even though she had her mother’s looks.

Amaris, on the other hand, was Thranduil’s double, yet had Amay’s fiery nature, inquisitive noseyness, and a stubborn streak that could match her mother’s.

“Why are we having a family pow-wow?” Legolas asked, coming through with a plate of sandwiches in one hand, and the other holding onto Amaris’s as she toddled along beside him. “Who’s in trouble?”

“Give me strength,” his father muttered. “No-one! All I want is to sit down once the children are settled for the night, and have a discussion about an idea I had, that is all. Why does everyone seem to think it is a major issue?!”

“Well when the patriarch wants a meeting, something must be up,” his son grunted. “Amaris, go sit with Mum, sweetheart.”

The toddler eyed her mother, and her sister on her lap. “Dadda,” she decided, and waddled over, climbing up and squashing herself in at his back with her arms around his throat.

“Nothing is up, for crying out loud,” he reiterated. “I am half wishing I hadn’t said anything now.”

Amay grinned. “You’ve got everybody dying of curiosity now, babe,” she told him, setting Adira down and taking Fin from him. She bounced him gently on her knee and she rubbed his back, and a resounding burp echoed around the kitchen.

Amaris promptly took his seat, climbing over Thranduil’s shoulders and crashing down over his chest to land in a heap on his thighs. If he hadn’t quickly grabbed her, she would’ve toppled off and landed on the floor.

“You are a monkey, just like your mother,” he informed her. “Always climbing.”

“Monkey,” she repeated, yanking his hair and chewing on it. He gently prised her fist from his hair and flipped it over his shoulder out of harm’s way.

“She’s definitely a daddy’s girl,” Amay commented.

“Are you guys going to have any more?” Vicky asked curiously.

Both parents shook their heads.

“It is a miracle we have these three,” Thranduil replied. “And I think Amethyst has been through enough, birthing them.”

She smiled. “Oh they are worth it,” she said, lifting Fin under his arms and turning him to face her, sticking her tongue out at him. He chortled, and copied her.

“To be honest, I never imagined I’d ever have any siblings,” Legolas remarked. “But d’you know what? They’re amazing, and I wouldn’t be without them.”

Amaris turned herself on Thranduil’s lap to sit facing him, content to play with the buttons on his black shirt. “Dadda,” she murmered to herself.

Amay couldn’t stop her smile. The whole interaction between father and daughter was both heart-warming and amazing.

*****

“Here you go, my darling,” Thranduil said softly, handing Amay a glass of rose wine over her shoulder. “One will not hurt you.”

She smiled, accepting the glass. “Thanks, babe,” she said. “I probably do need to chill out and relax for a bit.”

He lowered himself down to sit next to her on the couch, sliding one arm around her shoulders as he sipped his own glass of red wine. “Where is my wayward son?” he asked. “Off saving the world again?”

Vicky grunted. “If I could pry him from that Xbox, I’d have the answers to the mysteries of the universe,” she said dryly, rising from the floor where she’d been sitting cross-legged reading a magazine. “Leggy!” she roared down the hallway.

His grumbled reply filtered through, followed by a stream of curses.

“I just lost my last life!” he declared, stomping through to the comfortable lounge. “I’d been protecting it for the last two hours, dammit.”

“Try protecting the one you have,” his father advised in an unimpressed tone.

Amay sipped her wine, relaxing against the heat of Thranduil’s body against hers. “This is gorgeous,” she said.

He smiled. “I know you prefer rose to white,” he told her. “I picked up a couple of bottles when I was at the grocery store this afternoon.”

“So…what’s this idea you’ve had?” Legolas asked, sitting on the arm of the chair Vicky had taken and sliding his arm around her.

“It is no secret that Amethyst has had a series of panic attacks since the accident,” Thranduil said. “And it is no secret as to why she has been having them; the same applies as to why I have been at her side constantly over the last few months.”

“Taking what happened to my mother aside, you would’ve still been like that, Dad,” the younger blond commented. “You love her, Dad…it’s that simple. You shouldn’t be feeling the need to explain yourself.”

Vicky nodded in agreement.

“Nevertheless, I do feel the need,” he replied. “Sharon has left literature on breathing exercises and grounding techniques, which we will put to good use, and has been a great source of help. However, I think for the foreseeable future, if Amethyst wishes to return to work, I shall be returning with her, for both our sakes.”

Nobody said anything.

“Which is why I am considering paid childminders for the children for the nights we do go to work,” he added.

Amay flipped round to face him, horror on her face. “Over my dead body!” she snapped. “I am not having some fucking stranger who I’ve never set eyes on before taking care of our children! Not on your life, forget it!”

Legolas and Vicky looked between the two, as sparks started to fly.

“Amethyst, stop for a second and hear-“ Thranduil began.

“Fuck that,” she interrupted angrily. “Our kids are the most important thing in our lives, and there’s _no way in hell_ am I allowing some fucking paedophile-pervert to take care of them! We’re their parents, for Christ’s sake!”

He sighed softly. “Would you hear me out?” he said, calmly and patiently.

“No,” she spat. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“Pity…I have childminders in mind already,” he said.

“Tough shit,” she said. “Get them out of your mind – it’s not gonna happen.” She threw herself against the back of the couch, arms folded over her chest as she fumed silently, tapping her foot in agitation.

Silence.

Nothing moved for the next minute or two.

“Are you calm enough yet to listen to my suggestion?” he asked her.

She didn’t answer.

“The childminders I had in mind are Legolas and Vicky,” he said softly.

Amay’s head whipped round. “Eh?!”

“You are far too quick to explode, my darling,” he told her. “What I am proposing is that they cut their hours back in Indigo’s, and get paid to mind the children so we can both go in and work.”

The three seated around him looked at one another in astonishment.

“But Dad…we watch the kids anyway when we can,” Legolas pointed out. “We don’t expect to be paid for it; they’re my brother and sisters, for heaven’s sake.”

“That may be,” he agreed. “But as it stands, if Amethyst wishes to have some of her old life back, it would be best all round if I was with her at work. And there is nobody else in the world we would trust to watch Fin and the twins. Am I right?” he added, turning to his wife, who’d had the wind knocked out of her temperamental sails.

“Yes,” she said, still amazed. “I don’t want a stranger looking after them.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “So…what do you think? Are you willing to consider taking on the job?”

“We don’t need to be paid, guys,” Vicky said. “I love the kids, and so does Leggy. I can’t imagine going a day without seeing them or being around them; I love them to bits.”

“I know, and I understand,” Thranduil said. “But I would like to make it a more permanent, official offer. That way, Amethyst and I would be comfortable knowing the children were safe and in the best hands, and they would be comfortable with you here. And it means you would not have to take a cut in wages for the nights you are not on duty in Indigo’s.”

Amay leaned back towards him, pressing herself against his side and kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said with a tender smile. “My little fire-ball of fury.”

Legolas chuckled. “Well, I would be happy to watch them for free, but if you really want to go and make it a paid job, then I have no problems with that,” he said. “But seriously, you really don’t have to think money – this is family.”

“I know, which is why I want to look after my family,” Thranduil told him, sliding his arm back around his wife, knowing she wouldn’t bite him this time. “I was thinking along the lines of two nights a week, for a few months anyway, until Amethyst feels that she can do more, if that’s what she wants to do. If she wishes to stay with just two nights, then that’s ok too.”

“I’m in,” Vicky said. “Although I second Leggy over the money thing. We’re here most of the time anyway, but I’m not going to get into a fight over it, ‘cos I’m still a bit scared of you, Boss.” She ended on a laugh, and everybody joined in.

“Amethyst and I will sort out when she wishes to go back, and let you know,” he said.

“Fine by me,” Legolas said. “Meeting over?”

“I guess so,” his father laughed, and his son shot out of the room, back to his world of gaming. Vicky got up with a sigh and followed, muttering apologies for her boyfriend’s lack of patience and tact.

“You think of everything,” Amay said, looking up at her husband.

“Do you know what I am thinking now?” he asked, turning to look down at her.

She shook her head.

“I’m thinking that we should take our wine upstairs, slowly undress each other and take a shower together,” he whispered seductively. “Wash each other, kiss each other, lick each other…”

She grinned as he trailed off, lifting herself higher to crush her mouth against his. “Show me the way,” she whispered against him.


End file.
